For Once in My Life
by pessimism is poison
Summary: Alice Foster is graduating high school, 1959, with no memorable adventures behind her. At the suggestion of her friend, she moves to a random city for a fresh start and new memories. The city they end up in? Liverpool. Where do they stay? Mendips - where Alice catches the eye of the boy living across the hall... John Lennon.
1. Chapter 1

_Great Falls, Montana. June, 1959._

Nothing ever happens to me. It was the only thing that had been consistently weaved through my thoughts as the last year of high school dragged on. Next week was the official graduation ceremony. Four years of high school and what did I have to show for it? Those are supposed to be the years of development and 'self-discovery'. I was still the awkward, flustered teen I was when I first walked through those doors. I'd never been kissed, I'd never done something crazy with someone I hardly knew, and I'd never made a stupid decision because I knew the adventure would be worth it in the end.

As I stared out my window into my dimly lit street, it was these thoughts that had my teeth clenched in frustration. I didn't know whether I should scream or cry. I felt so trapped in this boring, small town. Small town Montana. Fascinating. It was full of faces I already knew and places I had already been. Next week was graduation and I would not take off that cap and gown without having a plan to get out of here.


	2. Chapter 2

There were two things that made this town bearable: a wild imagination and a weird and wonderful friend. Deanna Anderson was the daughter of the most outwardly liberal couple in town. They embraced the cultures of freedom and self-discovery which had formed their daughter into a beautifully vibrant person. Deanna, or Dee, as I call her, could always find a way to lift my spirits. Either through her exuberant personality or connecting to her quiet side to sit with me in silence, curled up in a blanket on my porch during a summer night. Both of us being single children, we've always clung to the title of sisters. Nothing else seemed fitting. It was she that presented most of our zany ideas to entertain ourselves in an otherwise boring town.

It seemed as if she knew I had been lamenting over my inexperience in life and adventure last night. She came up to my room without knocking on the front door, which was the norm, burst through the door and set my heart beating out my chest. I could actually see my blouse flutter against my chest as she shouted my name in excitement.

"Alice!" Her eyes were ablaze with the words she was about to spew. She crawled up onto my bed with me and grabbed my hands in hers. With a meaningful look, she repeated my name softly. "Alice..."

I wasn't sure what to say. I could feel the muscles that had my eyebrow cocked in slight annoyance. Reading in peace didn't work so well with someone scaring you half to death. I relaxed my face with a slow exhale and tossed my book to my side.

"What?" I sighed impatiently.

"We are not going to waste away here. I know we're both tired of breathing this air. It feels like poison more and more each day, but I've found the cure. We've got to pack our bags and go. Alice, we've got to go out on our own far away where we can't be scared into running back. We've got to take our chances while we have them. Good God, Alice! I can't spend another summer watching Fat Sam lick the last drops out of his milkshake cup."

I couldn't help but laugh at her final comment, but the rest of her speech had my heart fluttering again. I was so sure I wanted distance from everything and everyone here, but Dee seemed so serious about actually leaving. Now I wasn't sure if I had the guts.

"What do you mean leave? Where?"

"I don't know!" Dee raised her hands up and shouted her words as if she was preaching at the black church we had on the outskirts of town. She was exhilarated with an idea that had hardly formed. "Come here."

She dragged me over to my desk. It was fairly large. It held three heavy drawers on each side, the entire piece was made of cheap plywood, but it was covered in mahogany wall paper. It was a gift from my grandfather. It might've seemed like a boring desk made in bad taste, but the top of it was a brightly colored world map, carefully laid over with a protective, plastic coating. Often I had pushed my schoolwork aside to trace over the lines of African countries or skidded my pencil across the North Atlantic. Its value had only tripled in sentimental value when my Grandpa passed away last year. He used to tell me war stories and I hold him ultimately responsible for my thirst for adventure. Even though that thirst was being quenched by cowardice at the moment. I slumped into my desk chair. A bit too hard actually and I rubbed the pain in my lower spine while I watched Dee spin around with her eyes closed. After a couple of spins, she tumbled her finger over a random place on the map.

"There!" she grinned from ear to ear, seemingly proud of her eccentric behavior. "We're going to move there. Right after graduation."

I followed her thick finger with my eyes, down to the tip of her nail which clearly pointed to a small city I had glanced over before when studying my map.

"Liverpool?"


	3. Chapter 3

The mirror behind my bedroom door reflected a wide-eyed blonde girl in an oversized graduate gown and a square hat she wasn't pulling off. It seemed elaborate for a high school graduation, but it was a private school held in high respects. Whatever was highly respected in Montana, anyway. The faculty jumped through hoops to make it seem the parents had wisely invested their money by setting up a banquet and outdoor stage. Personally, I thought it was a waste of budget. I didn't expect anyone wanted to stick around long for their last day of high school. Including me. In the mirrored reflection behind me, I saw several leather-bound suitcases, stuffed with everything of use to me. My room looked cold and bare.

It had been decided that Dee and I were going to Liverpool. My parents, who were immensely more conservative than Dee's, we're a bit scandalized with the idea, but they agreed to it on the terms that I would attend college there and work hard on a degree of my choosing. My father contacted a business associate in London to recommend a cheap apartment – or flats as they're called in Britain. He had asked around until he called back with news of a home turned boarding house that was housing students for a small fee. I hadn't even been to the country, nevertheless the place I was to be living, yet that's exactly where I was headed.  
The June air blew in through my window and broke my train of thought before I got too distracted from the matter at hand. I looked like a little girl as I licked down a couple of stray hairs and tugged at my robe. I wasn't the emotional type, but my eyes threatened to well up at the sight of it all. All my years of childhood were gone. Adulthood was real now and it was scary. Adventure was a dream I never thought of actually seizing and now that I embarked on it, I was scared to death. Fortunately my mom came through my door just as my hands began to get clammy. Unfortunately, I was still staring into the mirror behind my door and I was nearly knocked over.

The rest of the day was a nervous blur. I was completely light headed when they called out my name to receive my diploma. I merely pecked at the banquet dinner and even as I hugged my teary-eyed parents goodbye at the airport, I still felt in a daze. It was my first time in an airplane, the first of many firsts to be broken. I turned Dee's hand a bit purple with a nervous hand clench during takeoff, but somehow I managed to doze off mid-flight. I woke up with an embarrassing loud gasp as a bit of turbulence started to signal our approach to landing.

It was one in the morning when we landed in London. The landing was almost worse than the take-off and I wasn't in a great condition when we found our way into the airport lobby. Tomorrow we would have to take the train to Liverpool where our new home was waiting for us.

Both Dee and I collapsed into our beds as soon as we checked into a nearby hotel, too tired to change out of our graduation dresses. The last thing I saw was Dee giving me a sleepy grin, her face mushed up against her fluffy, white pillow.

'It's all begun,' she seemed to say. And like that - I was out.


	4. Chapter 4

_The first few chapters and the ones that follow are going to be a bit short so I can get to the setting of Liverpool. Enjoy and review!_

A loud knock on our door startled me awake. Dee had always been a deep sleeper, but I rushed over to the door as soon as the banging began. The panicked swish of the door blew my hair back and the light from the hallway stung my morning eyes.

"Checkout is eleven and it's noon! Up and out, blondie!" The man before me was surprisingly young to be so commanding, but his sharply shined name tag boasted 'Assistant Manager'. He stalked off before I could say a thing so I just leaned against the door until I heard the click of its closing. I blinked each eye tiredly before rushing over to the peaceful lump beneath the covers.

"Dee! We've got an hour to get to the train! Go, go, go!"

My first few shakes were met with murmurs, but when I mentioned missing the train, she shot up so fast he almost hit me in the nose.  
We scurried about our luggage, pulling out a change of clothes. I almost knocked Dee over while I tugged my stockings over one leg as I tried to balance on the other. I ripped my brush through my hair and tossed it over to Dee to use. My hairbrush often held both blonde and brunette strands of hair. I splashed some warm water over my face from the rusty bathroom taps and stuffed my luggage back into the case until I was able to latch it shut. We ran like the wind out to street to nail down a cab to get us to the train. When our luggage was jumbled into the trunk, we collapsed into the backseat of the cab as it started to steer ahead.

Our breaths were deep and out of time, but with one shared look, we burst out laughing. I could feel it in my toes. I could feel it in my ankles where my suitcase which hadn't fit in the trunk banged up against my ankle. It was the first time in a very long time where I felt stress free. It was an odd feeling. We might miss our train, have to buy new tickets and find somewhere to store our luggage while we wait for the next one to roll in. If we didn't get to the station on time, it could mean at least four hours wasted away.

But who cared? There was no one I was keeping time for here. We didn't need to be in Liverpool by a certain time for a certain person. So even though the cabbie was giving us strange looks, I laughed until my stomach ached. As the car came to a stop, I had to wipe away the tears that had ran into the corner of my eye from the laughter as Dee sorted out the cash for the driver. With bright, beaming smiles, Dee and I grabbed our suitcases and ran for the train.


	5. Chapter 5

No matter how exciting an adventure is, the human body can only take so much. That's what I discovered when we had finally arrived in Liverpool. My feet ached, my mind was pounding from lack of sleep and awful jet lag, and I had only been able to stuff away a stale biscuit on the train because everything was so damn expensive.

In my temporarily poor physical condition, I was cursing the idea of coming to Liverpool altogether. 'I could be home right now in my bed after mom cooked a delicious ham dinner.'  
My back was damp with sweat from the ride and my hair was frizzed. Dee looked as exhausted as I was, but as soon as the train glided to a halt, her eyes were revived.  
"We're here!"

My heart fluttered a bit and my eyes widened. My senses started to take in everything even though my body strongly disagreed with my level of attention being paid to my surroundings rather than getting into bed for a long sleep. Dee almost seemed to dance down the train compartment hall and she skipped right out onto the platform.  
I was just as excited, but I was too tired to show it and my nervous habits put a bit of a damper on my arrival. It was so different from Montana. It seemed... Meaner. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar surroundings, or the leather-clad group of teen boys that were mimicking a station master from afar.

I stood in front of the train steps for a couple of seconds within a bubble of culture shock. This was an entirely new place with new people and I only had a peer to help me along. Montana Alice would have gone pale and gotten the first ticket back home, but I was tired of that Alice. That wasn't really me anyway. It's what fear always resorted me to. I was so much more than that. I marched over to the luggage car and Dee and I dragged our suitcases out to the street and waited until we caught a cab. Now was the time to bring forth the confidence I never had let shine through before. I squeezed Dee's hand as we rolled up to the boarding house.

Our parents had worked together with us to find a suitable place to live. Neither party knew how permanent this would be. Mother liked to believe I was staying here just over the school year and then I'd return to my senses and move back home. Dee wanted to absorb the English culture, but I think after a year or two she'd want to jet off to another location. Meanwhile I still wasn't entirely sure what I was even doing here, but I was determined to stick it out. These next few months would be taking blind steps and just hoping I don't fall.

The building in question was a large house with the second floor bedrooms being rented out. Dee and I were going to share a room. We didn't have much money to waste and the boarding home didn't have many rooms to rent out.

A couple of large trees blocked some of my view, but from what I could see, it was a fenced off property with a double gate entry. The front wall of the house was covered with long windows and the front door had a greenhouse-like entry which was roofed off. Perhaps Montana was merely plainer than Liverpool, but my house was roughly the same size and didn't boast the grandeur aura this home emitted. It was very well kept. The branches that hung over the front lawn were trimmed so as not to snag someone walking on the pathway, the windows were free of streaks, and the front garden held assorted tulips, all lined up in rows.  
It wasn't only me that was speechless now. Although I wasn't sure if Dee was silent because she began to realize how many miles we were from home, or if she was just too excited to speak.

When we reached the front door, she grinned so big it looked as if her eyes might bug out which answered my previous question. Too excited to speak, definitely. A woman who looked to be in her fifties answered my knock. She wore a grey tartan sweater and a matching skirt which hung below her knees. Black stocking lied underneath sharply polished, plain pumps with a thick heel. Her face looked serious as they were greeted without a smile. Her outward, long nose curved down towards thin lips.

"Alice Foster and Deanna Anderson?" We both nodded.

"Come in," she gestured her hand towards the hallway and curtly grabbed the small bag that I had laid on the floor beside me to free up a 'knocking hand'. The woman placed the bag on the staircase and wiped her hands together as if my bag had been lined with filth. To my right was a lightly lit living room. I noticed a boyish young man around my age in the back of the room, peeping in through a doorway. My ears picked up two sets of stifled laughs. Were they spying on us? My head whipped back towards the stern looking woman when she cleared her throat. Her cheekbones protruded when she spoke her vowels, making her face look only sharper and more severe.

"Your room is upstairs, last door on the right. Meals are served at seven, twelve thirty, and six o'clock. You are not my only tenants here so keep the level of noise to a very low minimum. I'll introduce you to our other tenant when he returns from class. He's studying to become a lawyer, so I trust you will respect him by following my rules as he does. All the boys' rooms are on the left. I'll give you a tour of the house after lunch. In the meantime, I want you to take your luggage out of my hallway and sort out your things. And finally, keep in mind that I do not allow any boys upstairs and certainly not in your rooms."

My mind was near reeling as the woman spouted off her rules without hesitancy. The last rule seemed quite motherly for a landlord. I couldn't help but chime in.

"Well then that lawyer ought to sleep in the front yard, seeing as boys aren't allowed upstairs," I observed with an innocent, placid smile. The two boys that were hiding behind the living room doorway let their laughter burst forth. I heard a smack, shoes shuffling, and the sound of a back door closing. Soon it was dead silent again with the unimpressed woman staring at me.

"Mm. Perhaps not, Miss Foster," it was the pleasantest she could reply yet it still felt cold. "You should take your bags up now. Lunch will be ready soon. By the way, girls, my name is Mary Smith. You may address me as Mrs. Smith. Welcome to _Mendips._"


	6. Chapter 6

Our room was small, but cozy. It had two single beds, each pushed to the wall opposite from the other. Beside the beds were small side tables with a pretty, white porcelain lamp sitting on a doily. Dressers and shelves fronted the foot of the bed and a wooden-framed mirror was nailed up against the back of the door. There was one window, situated between our beds that streamlined a ray of light through the middle of the room. A desk sat in front of the window. The surface of it was scratched from good use, but I had a feeling that despite its appearance it had been worth a lot to someone. It made me miss my desk back at home. I chose the bed on the right and started unpacking me things before I had the chance to get sentimental.

"Did you hear something shuffling around the living room when we first came in?" Dee asked as she re-folded a sun dress from her bag.

"Oh yeah. There were two guys there. Our age, I think. They were peeping in through the doorway." I laughed a bit as I recalled their curious faces.

"Our age, hmm?" Dee looked mischievous as she put her first item of clothing into her dresser. "I'd like to meet them. Were they cute?"

I rolled my eyes at her and shook my head in slight disbelief. There seemed to be too much to worry about to even pay attention to the opposite sex, but leave it to Dee to focus on the fun aspects of life.  
"I don't really know, Dee. I hardly saw them at all."  
I did agree with her on the count that I'd like to meet them, though. I was looking forward to meeting new people here. People who didn't know me when I was young and naïve. Dee and I unpacked while we chatted back and forth about what we wanted to do on our first day here until we were summoned for lunch.

I didn't eat much. My jet lag had not only thrown off my sleeping habits, but also my appetite and my hunger that I had during the train ride had magically vanished. Dee and I assisted in cleaning up and washing the dishes alongside Mrs. Smith. She had promised to give us the house tour, but she had to run out for an errand as we put away the last few dishes. I wasn't sure if she actually had something to do, or if she just wanted to escape our company. Either way we took advantage of our free time and agreed to take a look around town. I waited by the front door for Dee as I looked at the pictures hanging on the wall. A wedding picture of Mrs. Smith and her husband was followed by a family photo that suddenly featured a young boy, probably around five or six. His features resembled Mrs. Smith's, especially in the nose, but I didn't see any baby pictures. It was a bit strange, but I didn't look into it too much. The picture at the corner of the wall was missing the figure of Mr. Smith, leaving a morose-looking woman and a young teenage boy with neatly combed hair to fill up the frame. I didn't recall any mention of Mrs. Smith's husband. Had he passed away?

"Alice! Come upstairs!" Dee's voice bellowed from the hallway. I didn't expect Mrs. Smith would be all too pleased with shouting across the house so I hurried up before she called out again, forgetting that our landlord had already left the building. I entered our room to see her wearing a summer dress, hair done up, and make-up carefully applied.

I laughed at the sight of it, but she really did look great. "You look like a beauty queen. Miss Montana, 1959. Do a twirl, darling." I imitated a beauty contest host and held her hand up as she laughed and turned on her heel.

"Now it's your turn. Sit." She didn't wait for a response and pushed me onto my bed.

"What's the point of this?" I asked audibly, but I had a few guesses. Perhaps it was because I looked a bit awful. Eyeliner and mascara were usually swiped on in the morning and I would leave my hair to lie as is, but I didn't have time to do anything because of our rush to the train station.

"We're about to walk around our new town for the first time. We've gotta look good!" Dee was far from materialistic and shallow. These 'mini makeovers' that sprung up once and a while were purely for fun. She could care less about what people thought about her. Growing up around parents like hers taught her to ignore the judgmental looks and comments so she could live her life without trying to please everyone. I admired that in her.

A few minutes later I was in my usual mascara and eyeliner, clothed in one of her dresses. It was a deep blush, v-neck dress made of cotton that flowed down to my knees. I pushed aside my insecurities and convinced myself that I was confident in this dress. It did actually make me look pretty good.

"What about my hair? I thought you were going to style it," I picked up a strand of my blonde hair and frowned at it. Dee had brushed through it and dusted it with hairspray, I was expecting some sort of beehive style. All hairstyles were lost with me. I neither had the patience or talent to pull them off.

"You don't need it to be styled! You know, I hear it's starting to become fashionable now, or something. You look gorgeous either way." I grinned at her kind words. My hair could be a fuss sometimes, but I loved my long, blonde locks. They reached down a couple of inches past the nape of my neck and it felt like a safe blanket. I preferred it to be left down, otherwise I felt exposed.

Dee was always good at building me up. Soon we were walking the streets of our new 'home' and I was feeling confident about our fresh start. I started school in September studying creative studies at the Liverpool Institute of Art. I had always received good marks on school essays, but I'd never pursued writing in my own time to the extent I wished for. Now was the perfect time to do so and I was excited to start classes.

Dee and I walked until our feet ached and the sun began to lower. There was so much to take in and not much daylight left so we decided to head back to the house. I felt so vibrant about this place. I could've skipped all the way back to Mendips. When we reached the property, Dee went on inside without me. I wasn't finished soaking up the warm-winded weather. The setting sun painted the sky with a whimsy of colors and I took a seat in the backyard to gaze at it.

It started to trickle while I sat in the fold-out lawn chair, but I didn't mind it. I stretched out my legs to feel rain drops on my skin and I held my hand out until the rain water pooled in my palm. I loved the rain. I had grown completely unaware that the Earth had other occupant besides myself because I got so caught up in the scene before me. So when I heard a clatter by the gate, I nearly jumped out of my chair. I leaned back and sat still, squinting into the side yard. A leather jacket, tight jean wearing young man skidded into the back yard on one foot, recovering from a stumble. He looked just like the boys I had seen at the train station and I was immediately apprehensive. Was he breaking into the house?

I obviously wasn't doing a splendid job at blending in with my chair because he addressed me quite quickly – kind of. "Is someone here?" His voice was thick with the city's accent and his eyebrows knit together as he squinted across the patio. Couldn't he see me? My initial alarm wore off quickly. Either he was staying here at Mendips or he was a very daft burglar.

"Um, yeah. Somebody right here." I was still confused about this strange man as I half-raised my hand to signify my presence. He didn't seem startled at all when I replied. He just grinned and made his way over to me. He bent down on his knees beside my chair and looked me over before grinning at me again. I had half a mind to smack him the way he scanned me over like a ripe melon.

"Can I help you?" I asked, nearly dripping with sarcasm.

He just laughed at me and shook his head. "No, no, love. It should be the other way around."

I raised an eyebrow. I was completely out of the loop here. "Why?"

"Because you're staying at my house."

"_Your_ house?" I replied.

"Well, it's not _mine_, you know. It's Aunt Mimi's."

"Who is Aunt Mimi?" I was getting a bit exasperated now.

"Oh right. She has all the people staying here calling her 'Mrs. Smith'. I don't think it suits her. Do you?" He looked at me as though he fully expected a reply to a question I could not answer. I ignored him and asked a question of my own.

"What's your name?"

"John. You?"

"Alice…" So his name was John and Mrs. Smith was his aunt… and he was living in the same building as me. I didn't have a great feeling about that.

"Hey! You were the bird that blew Paul and me's cover." He stood up and grabbed a chair which he pulled up to sit on backwards, his arms resting on the back of it.

"So you were the one spying on me and my friend? So sorry I blew your covert mission," It was my turn to grin at him.

"You should be sorry. We were collecting valuable information," he broke our eye contact to light up a cigarette.

"What valuable information?" I laughed. He wasn't breaking his dead serious exterior as he talked.

"Well you and your friend are the first female tenants here. We needed to see which one we'd wanna bang." He still didn't look at me, instead taking a drag from his cigarette and breathing out his smoke into the rain. Maybe it was a good thing he didn't see my initial reaction. Mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed. I had never been talked to so blatantly.

"Psh. Good luck with that, cowhide." I flicked his leather jacket and looked back to the sunset. I wasn't sure how to reply other than within the lines of humor. John looked down at his jacket where I had flicked him and chortled satirically.

"Thanks for the good wishes. Have you realized it's raining?" He finally turned his head back over to me as he pointed his cigarette up to the sky.

"Yes I have, Einstein," I gave him a cynical smirk and focused back on the sky.

"Ah. So you would know that you're dress is quite see through when it gets wet." My head snapped towards John and I followed his gaze down to my chest where there was a clear outline of my bra. My cheeks flushed instantly and my ears went hot.

"You're a pervert," I stood up from my chair and marched towards the back door.

"And you're a lovely subject for my perversion. Thank you." I looked behind me as my hand grasped the door handle just long enough to see him take a bow. I scoffed and ran up to my room as soon as I heard the door shut behind me.


	7. Chapter 7

_Long ass chapter right here. Haha! Enjoy and review!_

After meeting John that night I spent nearly half an hour with my face buried into my pillow, groaning about the awkward encounter to Dee. Liverpool had been marked with my unluckiness and now it was truly home.

Thankfully, in the following week I didn't see much of him. I had seen him heading out the door with a guitar case slung around his shoulder and a notebook in his hands a couple of times. Sometimes he was met by a friend who sometimes carried a guitar over his shoulder as well. John had gotten into the habit of calling me 'Miss Montana' whenever he greeted me. Funny thing was I never told him where I had moved from. I only assumed he had asked Mrs. Smith about the new girls living in 'his' house.

His relationship with Mrs. Smith – or, to him, Aunt Mimi – confused me. Mrs. Smith had mentioned he was graduated so it wouldn't be unusual for him to be living away from home, yet the pictures on the wall suggested he had been here since he was a little boy. Mrs. Smith scolded him like a mother. I was glad to figure out she treated everyone with the same strict attitude, but whenever I heard her laughing, she was laughing with John. They seemed to balance each other out. I was almost curious enough to ask a couple of questions, but I had never been a busy body and never will be.

I didn't have time to spare anyway. My first week in Liverpool was proving to be a very busy one. After a couple of days applying for multiple odd jobs, I had been offered a waitressing job at a small diner. Dee had also applied at the diner, but they only had one position available. We were both pretty crestfallen that we wouldn't be able to work together, but Dee still found work as a behind-the-counter saleswoman at an apparel shop.

Dee started working yesterday, but today was my first shift. I was terrified. The only 'job' I ever had was running errands for my mom and dad. The uncomfortably thick uniform felt foreign on my skin and a list of bad scenarios ran through my head. By the time I walked over to the diner and heard the intimidating _ring_ of the bell overhead that announced my arrival, my hands were shaking. I kept them still by shoving them into my apron pockets and I looked around for a fellow waitress.

"Excuse me," I tried my best to give a polite, steady smile to a middle-aged, orange-haired woman wearing the same uniform as me. "It's my first day and I was wondering where I might find Sherry? She's supposed to train me… I think." I had repeated the information the manager had told me over and over again in my head on the way over, but I was still hesitant.

"Right here, dear. You've gotta be Alice then. My, my, they're coming in young now. A pretty girl like you ought to go get hitched. You don't need to work a day in your life with boobs like that." Sherry laughed and started walking towards the backroom, expecting me to follow. I could feel my cheeks flushing. Was everyone unapologetically forward here in Liverpool? I felt like covering my chest with my arms as I finally found my wits and followed Sherry to the back.

The next few hours, Sherry taught me the ins and outs of customer service, balancing plates, and how to fix the jamming cash register. I learned she had been working here for six years, ever since the place opened. If anyone was to train new employees, it would have to be Sherry. She was kind and knew this place inside out. Even by the last hour of my shift I was getting the hang of it, thanks to my experienced mentor. I was washing some dishes in the kitchen when Sherry walked over to me.

"Hey, darling. You've got a group sitting at your table," she winked as she handed me a towel to dry my hands. I had waited on two tables beforehand, I don't know why she was acting like she was. Well, she said it was a group. The two tables I had served were just couples. This might prove to be a new challenge. I strolled into the front and scanned over my assigned tables. When I saw who was sitting at table five, I wanted to go right back to the sink and dunk my head in with the dishes rather than approach _him_. John sat there with two friends, he and another boy were wearing leather jackets and the odd one out was wearing a button up with the first couple buttons left undone. The youngest looking one who was matched to John in his choice of apparel, had his hair quiffed back. I couldn't help but wonder how much gel he had to use to pull off the rockabilly style. The one who sat on the left in the button up looked closer to John's age and a bit familiar. He had thin, sharply arched eyebrows and big, round brown eyes. He didn't exude the carelessness that John did, but he seemed very confident.

I took a deep breath and strode over, trying to act as if they were just another group of strangers. "Welcome to Gizmo's, what can I get for you?"

"What? You're not going to tell us your name?" John leaned forward across the table and cocked his head, staring straight at me.

"I have my name tag right here, you can read." My words were a bit cutting, but I smiled through them and pointed to my name tag. Well, it wasn't much of a name tag. It was a small piece of paper with my name scrawled on it, slipped into a plain button used for new employees.

"I thought you didn't like me looking around that area," John grinned cheekily as his friends sniggered a bit. _God, did that mean he had told them about the night we met_?

"You're wrong, you know. He actually can't read," The boy wearing the button up nodded over to John while the younger, leather-jacketed boy cupped his hands and put them over his eyes to signify glasses. I smiled, amused, not only because of their teamwork to tease their friend, but the fact they were teasing John altogether.

"I can see well enough to know what I like," John paused to glance up at me after smacking the younger boy on the shoulder. "And a plate of fish and chips in front of me would look wonderful." He turned the meaning of his sentence around, acting as though I was hanging in each word he was saying.

"Here, here!" The youngest raised his menu above his head and tossed it back onto the table with a crooked grin.

"Better make it three," John's round-eyed friend winked at me and handed me their menus. The other boys took no notice to his flirty flutter, acting as if he did it all the time… which I assumed might be the case.

"Perfect. Anything to drink?"

John raised his fist and yelled quite loudly, "Beer!" A couple of heads turned towards him, which I think was probably his intention. "You know we're all piss drunk right now," he whispered loudly, with a dead-serious face.

"I'm not drunk," the youngest one raised an eyebrow and shook his head at me.

"George, you're so drunk you think you're sober." John patted his friend, George, on the back.

"None of us are drunk, you idiot. Three cokes." The boy I hadn't picked up the name of yet smiled at me as he sorted through his friend's nonsense to finish the order.

"Alright. I'll bring them round in a moment," my reply was lost on John and George who kept shoving each other in the booth. It was only the boy who sat on the left who nodded at me before I turned back towards the kitchen.

I got three Coca-Cola bottles from the fridge, a seemingly popular drink as there weren't many left of them compared to the other well-stocked beverages. Sherry came up behind me and playfully poked me in the rib.

"So what do you think of those boys, hm? Pretty good looking if you ask me!" Sherry whispered and finished her teasing with a laugh.

"Why is it that everyone thinks two people of opposite gender and similar age have to interested in one another?" I rolled my eyes.

"Because that's usually the way it ends up, buttercup." She bounced her shoulders as she rolled off her rhyme and headed to the supply closet, giggling to herself. With a groan, I headed back out to the front. If John kept coming around, I'd be subjected to some merciless teasing.

"Miss Montana's back!" John shouted again. Fewer heads turned this time, but they look annoyed.

"I have the right to kick you out of here, you know," I smirked.

"That is if you could take me. Let's wrestle and see who would win," his wide, cocky grin was innuendo enough without his words.

"I'll pass, thanks." I looked away from him, trying to stay professional and not roll my eyes. I set down the sodas in front of each of them and told them their fish and chips would be ready in a moment. I had some time to spare so I thought I might as well get to know them a bit. Besides John, they seemed like nice enough people and they were around my age. I was new here in Liverpool and I had yet to meet new friends.

"So I've figured you're George, but I don't have your name penned yet," I squinted and pointed to the boy on the left who I had just been mentally referring to as 'button boy'.

"Paul. Nice to meet you." he stuck out his hand and I shook it with a natural smile. Wait… Paul! I did know him… John mentioned his name when I first met him and that's the name he greeted his friend with when they met up in front of the house.

"So _you're_ the one who was spying with John when I first arrived. I can't say you two are very stealthy."

"Partner in crime. Well, it was your fault our cover was blown. We nearly lost it when you said that bit about the fellow sleeping on the front lawn," Paul chuckled.

"Mimi thinks that lawyer is the second coming of Christ. You offered Jesus the manger all over again without knowing it," John started laughing along with Paul. I laughed to myself a bit at the sight of them giggling together like a couple of schoolgirls.

"What makes him so great?" I had met the tenant they were talking about. Benjamin Walker was his name. He introduced himself with a handshake, full name, and where his hometown was – which was 'Birkenhead, across the Mersey River.' I didn't even know John's full name. My first encounter with Benjamin was much more formal.

"Nothing! He's just spending a fortune studying to become a tight ass and he gets along with Mimi. Two things that apparently make him 'a wonderful man.'" John mimicked the voice of his aunt and popped open his Coke bottle.

"I hear he's actually a bastard," Paul chimed in. "A couple of guys who go to class with him says he's awful whenever he's not trying to impress everybody. And he's got a bunch of girls wrapped around his finger."

"You'd better keep a sharp eye on 'im, Alice. He'll probably try to poke at least one of you." 'One of us' must have meant either Dee or I. His choice of words weren't very tasteful, but he may be right. I'd have to let Dee know that he didn't seem to be a very nice guy. She was telling me last night how handsome she thought he was. Poor Dee, neither of us ever had much luck with romance.

When John started to get vulgar again, I took the opportunity to check the progress on their orders. I excused myself and headed towards the kitchen. The cook had great timing because as I approached the kitchen counter, he set down three full plates of food. It took me a couple of tries to properly balance them, but thanks to the tips Sherry had given me, I got them to steady against each other. Focusing hard on keeping the plates balanced, I carefully backed out of the swinging doorway and shuffled towards the table.

George grabbed a fry off his plate as I set it down in front of him. Paul thanked me after I set down his meal and John had been staring at me the whole time. It was nerve-wracking. After I set down his plate, ignoring his gaze, John slipped a coin over to Paul. I furrowed my brows at their interaction, confused.

"I made a bet that you'd drop the plates," John informed me. My shoulders sank and I shook my head at him, unimpressed.

"Thanks a lot. Enjoy your winnings, Paul. You deserve them." I patted Paul on the back and sneered at John with childish satisfaction.

They had been there now for nearly twenty minutes being boisterous, but waving fanatically at me whenever I walked by to amuse themselves. While I served a customer another soda, I looked over to their table to see that they had gone. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed. They were pretty funny and it turned out having them visit was fun instead of the disaster I dreaded it to be. I found myself hoping that they'd visit again during one of my shifts as I pushed my way through the back door.

From behind the fridge, John jumped out, stamping his feet against the floor as he landed while he shouted "Scream if you want me!" I shrieked and my hand flew to my chest. My hand then covered over my mouth when I realized what he had said.

"That's not fair!" My hand slid down my cheek, I couldn't believe he had snuck into the back just to dupe me into that.

"Well you were the one to admit it so…" John shrugged, strode over to me and tried to put his hands around my hips. I smacked him on the chest and pushed him away. My cheeks flared up as they always do. Someone really needed to invent the cure for red cheeks, those things always betrayed me.

"What? I thought you wanted me!" He grinned ear to ear, very proud of his mischief.

"You're not supposed to be back here," I jeered.

"I know. I had a good view though. Poor girl. You looked so heartbroken when you saw your favorite boys had gone," John feigned a heart sick admirer and staggered backwards. True, I was a bit sad to lose their company, but I was not _heartbroken_.

"Psh. Far from my favorite boys. Although two of them were closer than the other to winning over my approval. Now go before you get caught." I tried to shove his shoulder towards the door, but I was far from matching his strength. He was immensely amused at my attempt to move him.

"I was already caught. By you, remember? Why haven't you called me out yet?" John turned against my shove to lean down to my level and look my in the eyes. "Hm?" I was still a young teenage girl on the inside and I had to stubbornly admit that those brown eyes threatened to completely melt me. I bit my bottom lip in frustration.

"I like it when you do that. It's sexy," John whispered through a wicked grin and I immediately let my lip loose.

"Go." I whispered back, looking straight into his eyes. I walked into the kitchen before he could say anything else, praying that he would leave. I wasn't pleased with the effect he had on me. Why would I ever be interested in someone like him? I didn't even know his last name and he was already causing me trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

It was started to get dark when my shift ended, so I rushed home before the street lights came on. Liverpool seemed a lot more dangerous than Great Falls and I didn't have the slightest desire to run into any trouble. By the time I got to the house, my feet were aching terribly. The sprint from work had only worsened the wear I had built up by whizzing around the diner. It would take a while to get used to being on my feet constantly.  
The house was quiet, it seemed that everyone was either in bed or out somewhere. I glanced at the hall clock to see it was already ten o' clock. I sighed and drudged up the stairs, my whole body feeling as though it weighed three times heavier than it really was.

I opened up my bedroom door to see Dee sitting cross-legged on her bed and a magazine on her lap. When she heard me come in, she tossed it aside and jumped up to greet me like an excited puppy.  
"Alice! How was your first day?" She took my hands in hers and led me over to her bed to sit.  
"Long," I groaned. My tired state wasn't giving justice to the positive start I had. "But it was good. I had a woman named Sherry training me and you could tell she knew what she was doing. Complete pro. I already had started serving tables when John and his friends came in during -" Dee shrieked as quietly as she could manage and put her hand over her mouth.

"John came in? With his friends? Oh my god! That must have been pleasant for you. What did he say? What did his friends say?" Dee shook the bed by bouncing up and down. She loved a good story, especially when it involved interesting people. I don't believe she had met John, but from what I told her, she was curious about him.

"Well it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be... His friends were actually really nice. They seemed more polite than he was," I scoffed a bit. "Oh, and they were talking about Benjamin. Sounds like you should stay away from him, Dee. Apparently he has a string up girls lined up behind him and he's not so prim and proper around certain company," I frowned, feeling bad for Dee who I think kind of liked him. I wasn't expecting her reaction. She threw her head back and laughed.

"What a character! I never would have guessed. A lady lovin' lawyer?" She continued to laugh and soon I had joined her. I had known Dee for years, but she could still be completely unpredictable. Perhaps I should've known that she wouldn't let a boy bother her. She was so carefree that there weren't a lot of things that bothered her at all. I wish I could let things roll off my back like she did. Yet, the scenario with John was still stuck in the back of my head even though I tried to shake it off. Remembering it again made me groan and flop against Dee's pillow. She caught on right away that my groan was due to something beyond exhaustion and I explained to her just what had happened, without mentioning what I was feeling about it all.

"I had a feeling he might have liked you before, but now I'm completely convinced. I bet he wants to raise your children," Dee managed a serious look for a few short seconds before we both cracked up.

"I would NOT want someone like that raising my children." Our laughter trailed off and I got up to get my night gown out from my dresser.

"Well, how does he score on being a potential love match?" Dee wiggled her eyebrows as she reached over me to grab my hairbrush. I rolled my eyes, but I had been questioning myself on why I was even the slightest bit attracted to him.

"He doesn't. Doesn't even make the chart. He seems handsome, I guess, but he's so... immature. I don't even know him that well so I don't really have the right to make any judgements, but I just don't get a good vibe from him." I felt frustrated as I talked through my hands, trying to sort out this nuisance I knew to be John.

"You said it yourself. You don't know him that well. He might be different than what you see. He might not. You'll never find out if you just brush him off, though. We're in a completely different country for God's sake! Take some chances. We can't get stuck in the same rut we were in living in Montana," Dee pointed the hairbrush in her hands towards me, knowing she had made a good point.

"Fine. You win this time. But you've got to meet this guy. You might know what I mean when you actually talk to him." I pulled my night gown over my head and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Dee did the same on her bedside table and turned off the overhead light after setting my brush back down on my dresser.

"Any time! I've wanted to meet him ever since you ran up here groaning about my see through dress," she giggled as she crawled into bed.

I groaned in response as I flipped my covers back. "Don't remind me. I can't help but wonder if that's what he thinks of whenever he sees me." I grimaced at the thought.

"Of course that's what he thinks of! All boys are vulgar and gross. We learned that in Kindergarten. Just look on the bright side."

"What's the bright side to being objectified?" I sounded like a deep-rooted feminist, but I felt horribly embarrassed by the fact he had taken notice of my body. Bleh. It made me uncomfortable.

"He thinks you're sexy and he wants to raise your children." She giggled wickedly and I threw my uniform at her.

"Ugh. Go to bed!" I buried my face into my pillow. John seemed to have that effect on me. I could still hear Dee giggling quietly as she tossed my uniform off her bed, content with teasing me. I smiled a bit to myself for a short moment, in spite of myself. Somewhere deep within, I suppose I liked the attention I got from John. I wasn't going to admit it, though.


	9. Chapter 9

_Another long chapter for you all. Thank you so much for your positive reviews! They put a huge grin on my face and they keep me inspired to keep writing. Enjoy!_

I woke up to the sound of light rain trickling against the window. The smell of rain made me smile as I stretched across my bed with a yawn. My next day of work was tomorrow so I had the entire day to myself. Sherry had told me I needed a better pair of working shoes so I planned on visiting Dee at the clothing shop to buy a new pair. The cold air enveloped me as I left my warm bed and I shivered as I walked over to my dresser to change quickly into warmer clothes. I pulled out a long, mint green dress and a tan sweater. The wooly material was welcome against my cold skin. There were a few more shivers as I brushed through my hair and applied a bit of make-up, but I eventually adjusted to the morning temperature.

When I had gathered up my things, I headed out in the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible. I knew John stayed in the room across from mine and I didn't want to run into him. I was still a bit embarrassed from our last meeting. I wasn't sure if I had been too harsh with him, or not harsh enough.  
As I eased my door shut, I overhead some light strumming from a guitar. It came from John's room. Curious, I crept over to his door and put my ear up against it. John was humming quietly to a tune I hadn't heard before. It sounded nice… Suddenly the guitar playing stopped. I leaped away from the door and ran down the stairs, much louder than I had anticipated. As I heard John's door open, I ran out the front door as fast as I could. The good news was that I hadn't run into John or been caught listening in on him. The bad news was the rain was still trickling down and I hadn't thought to grab an umbrella. I sighed, once again displeased with my bad luck.

I walked quickly, almost picking up a slow jog, on my way to 'Liverpool Attire'. A straight-forward, no-nonsense name. Not particularly creative, but it got the point across, I suppose. I caused a bit of a whirlwind the way I burst into the store, letting a bit of the wind follow me in. My shoes had gotten pretty wet from the puddled paths and they dripped over the floor. Dee turned around to look at me while she helped a customer. She bit her bottom lip and her eyes widened. I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. With a focused expression, she turned back to the young woman she was helping pick out material. I composed myself and tried to wipe as much moisture off my shoes as I could manage onto the welcome mat before finding my way to shelves stocked with shoes.

After Dee rang up her customer, she rushed over to me and started laughing. "Don't you remember being told it rained a lot in England? Where is your umbrella? Oh, you should have seen the way you looked when you ran in here!" She fell back on a stool as she giggled until she started to nearly lose her breath. I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips, slightly amused at her reaction, but still annoyed at my misfortune.

"I didn't have time to get one! John nearly caught me standing by his door," I whispered to her, as if there were still customers in the store, and slid my hands down my cheeks, remembering the horrifyingly close call.  
"You were standing by his door?" Dee gave me a strange look. Just last night I was complaining about him and now it sounded like I was stalking him.  
"Don't look at me like that! I just heard him playing guitar and I was very _slightly_ curious." That still didn't sound very convincing.  
"He plays guitar? Mm, the mysterious creative type. What have you gotten yourself into, Miss Foster?" Dee wiggled her eyebrows, as she usually did when she teased me.  
"Shush," I playfully shoved against her and started looking at the shoes again. I picked up a pair of white sneakers in my size and pointed out the price tag to Dee. "Is this a good price?" I hadn't gotten used to the conversion of the UK dollar from the US dollar. Since Dee had been working around these prices for the past couple of days, I assumed she'd have a better idea than I did.  
"The best price in town!" Dee put on a big, salesman smile and showcased the shoes in my hand.  
I ended up buying the shoes, as well as an umbrella to keep myself dry on my way back. I stuck around to talk to Dee in between her work duties. I ended up staying until it was time for her to clock out so we squeezed under my umbrella and skipped back home over the puddles and mud.  
Much to Mrs. Smith's dismay we were ten minutes late for supper. We silenced the small giggles we had caught from running all the way to the house from around the corner and seated ourselves at the dinner table. Benjamin Walker, the law student, sat across from Mrs. Smith at one end of the table and greeted us with a pleasant smile, but stayed quiet. The room was tense. Was it because we were late? I crossed my ankles under the table and bit my bottom lip, not sure if I should stay silent or say something.

Mrs. Smith starting serving food onto her plate, so the rest of us followed her lead and we began to eat in hushed stillness. It was Benjamin who broke the silence.  
"I hear they're holding a dance at the hall in the art school. Maybe you two would be interested in attending. I would be more than pleased to escort you, if you wish to go," He smiled at us. Before, I would have thought he was being kind, but after hearing what I had from Paul, he looked like a snide sap.

"Oh! I heard about that too! I meant to tell you, Alice. Someone came into the shop with a poster. We should go!" Dee turned towards me excitedly. I would've tried to signal to her somehow not to mention going to the dance being that Benjamin had just offered to take us, but Mrs. Smith was looking directly at us and I knew how much our rigid landlord liked Ben.

"Mm," I muttered hesitantly. "Yeah, sure." I grimaced a bit when I tried to smile in agreement.

"Hm. You American are very casual with your speech. I can't remember the last time a young person properly used 'Yes', instead of your slang," Mrs. Smith cocked her head towards me, then Benjamin, acting as though she was genuinely interested in the speech patterns of a new generation when I knew she was really just calling out her disapproval of my grammatical error. My eyes darted towards my plate of food, wishing I could turn invisible and rush up to my room. Mrs. Smith was a strong woman and she could get away with saying anything she wanted. Yet she always covered up her nasty remarks with a bit of sour honey.

"Well," she continued. "Benjamin will take you girls to the dance and back. I wouldn't want you two going without a proper escort." I looked up from my roast beef to look at her, trying to hide my disbelief. Did she just _order_ us to go with Benjamin? Dear God, I thought I had left my mother back in Montana.

The rest of dinner was awkward; Benjamin and Mrs. Smith discussed his studies while Dee and I exchanged glances whenever the older lady wasn't looking. Finally, Benjamin excused himself and we three girls cleaned up. I was immensely relieved when I was able to head upstairs and into my room. Dee stayed downstairs to read a book she found in the parlor's bookshelf. I couldn't understand why she would subject herself to staying on the same level of the house as Mrs. Smith, but she didn't seem as intimidated by her as I was.

With my free time, I wrote a letter to my parents. I had been sending them letters every couple of days, describing our progress on settling in and finding work. I got my first letter back only yesterday evening and it made me feel a bit homesick. Liverpool was nice, but it surely wasn't short of troublesome people and intimidating scenarios. Letters back and forth between home was always a highlight of my day. After carefully scrawling down the description of my first day of work and the wet, yet warm weather, I folded the papers into an envelope, wrote out the address, and stamped it. I hadn't mentioned John except for noting he was related to our landlord. There was no way I could write anything more about him, knowing my protective father listened to my worrisome mother read my letters out loud. My cheeks threatened to start blushing just at the thought of it.

The street lights outside had already turned on, but the letter was burning in my pocket. I couldn't resist delivering it tonight. Thoughtfully grabbing my umbrella, I slid on a warm jacket and popped over to Dee to let her know where I was going. She had her apprehension about me heading out alone in the dark, but I assured her it was just to the post box and back. I embarked into the chilly summer night with the letter clasped between my gloved hands.

I marched up to the corner of the street and turned to my right. I walked along, starting to doubt that I had remembered where the post box was. After five minutes, I slowed my pace and started looking around. I wasn't even sure if I knew how to get back to Mendips from here. I should have kept track of the corners I turned. My ears starting to feel warm as I panicked. It was dark out in a foreign town full of rough-looking strangers. I rubbed my temple in frustration as I tried to mentally trace back my steps. As I tried to sort through a plan to get back to the house, the rain started to pour down. I popped open my umbrella, utterly thankful that I had remembered to bring it, but still cursing my bad luck.  
My inner complaints were interrupted by a holler from across the street. The loud greeting got my heart thumping and I tried to get a glimpse of the figure that was approaching me. _'Oh my god. This is how I die…' _reeled through my frightful mind up until the stranger stepped onto the sidewalk and grinned at me. With a relieved sigh, I recognized it to be John. He was indistinguishable in the darkness and he was wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses I hadn't seen before.

"Look who it is! Miss Montana. You know, I've never seen you through these things. You're looking sharp," John beamed through his double-meaning of heightened visibility and plain attraction.

"Nice glasses," I muttered, I was still worried about how I was going to get back to the house.  
"What'cha doing out in the rain, love?" It looked like John wasn't bothered by the wet hair that was soaked with rain and dripping onto his nose.  
"I'm _trying_ to find a post box, but I can't find the stupid thing anywhere." John raised his eyebrows at my frustration, seemingly entertained, and then broke into a smile.  
"So you decided to go out into the dark to wander around? You've gotta have someone to protect you after the sun goes down, here. I know a couple of guys who'd like to have their way with a pretty girl like you." He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Good thing I'm here." I wasn't sure whether I should be offended at his remark or relieved I had someone here to help me get back to Menlove Avenue.  
"Knight in shining armor," I smirked, sarcastically.  
"Let's find you that post box then, fair maiden." John ducked under my umbrella and started walking forward as he put his arm around me. An arm that was completely soaked.  
"Ugh! You're dripping wet!" I tried to roll his arm off my shoulder, but he wouldn't budge. Instead he grinned and leaned over to whisper,  
"So are you."  
I nearly pointed out that I was perfectly dry until I caught on to his vulgar innuendo. I scoffed at his bad taste and hoped that the mail box wasn't far from here. His breath smelled of alcohol and I began wishing even more fervently that I could get home soon.  
"Been living it up, have you? Funny how you don't act any different when you're liquored up. That doesn't speak much to your character," I ridiculed.  
"Come on now. Nothing wrong with a bit of Devil Water."  
"Well, if it's called Devil Water, I don't assume it's something too awfully good," I retorted.  
"You're talking as if you've never tried it."  
"I haven't. You have to be twenty-one in America and I'm not twenty-one," I stated, matter-of-fact. I sounded prissy, but I wasn't interested in breaking the law just to try a bit of liquor.  
"Well you've only got to be eighteen to get into pubs here," John informed. He noticed my silence and added, "Aren't you eighteen?"  
"No… I'm seventeen. I'll be eighteen in November." For some reason I felt a bit embarrassed about my age. I had always been younger than my friends because my birthday was so late in the year.  
"Not legal? Well that crosses a few things off the list…" John swerved us into another street where I could see a post box up ahead. I decided to keep any scoffs to myself being that we were nearly done running my errand.  
"So who's the letter for? Got some forlorn lover all strung up back home?" He raised his eyebrows quickly and cracked into a teasing grin.  
"Ha! Hardly. I'm sending it to my parents," I corrected.  
"Is that so?" John waited until we had covered the last few steps over to the box to grab the letter out of my hands and wave it above his head. As well as he could while still under my umbrella, anyway.  
"I'm not going to play that game. Either drop it in the mail slot or give it back," I stood impatiently, showing no signs of amusement even though he had a huge, dopey smile on his face. To my horror, he shoved it down his pants and whispered,  
"Go fetch." I scowled at him and tipped my umbrella over his head, watching all the collected rain drip over his hair.  
"Fuckin'-" He tried to jump out of the way of the sprinkling water, but most of it ended up on him. "I surrender! Christ!" He pulled the letter out of his trousers and shoved the wrinkled envelope into my hands. "Just wanted to see if you could play rough." Just when I thought I had bested him, he _had_ to go and say something like that to get my cheeks flaring up again. I slipped the envelope into the mail slot, satisfied that I had finally gotten it in with minimal damage.

"It's gonna smell like me now. Your folks are gonna start wondering what you've been doing without them breathing down your neck." With the mention of 'breathing down necks' John stumbled over to me and blew his beer-smelling breath on the back of my neck. I snapped my hand over the area so he'd stop and turned sharply around on my heel.  
"It's not going to smell like you and I'm not doing anything behind their backs. Now I'd be ever so grateful if you would take me back to Mendips." I gritted my teeth while I tried my hardest to sound pleasant.  
"Oh you're asking for my help? Well! I think I'll pass," he did a slight farewell bow and started walking away with long strides. I rolled my eyes and slumped my shoulders forward. I knew I couldn't find my way back without him.  
"Wait!" John turned around with a smirk that put me off ease and I ran to catch up to him.  
"I wasn't actually gonna leave you behind y'know. I just wanted to see what you looked like chasing after me." There went my blushing cheeks. John ducked back under my umbrella, this time keeping his hands to himself. "So have you heard about this jig they're throwing at the Art Institute?"  
"I have, actually. I heard about it over dinner."  
"You going?" John drew a pack of cigarettes from his inside coat pocket, looking unaffected towards whether I either confirmed or denied my plans to go.  
"Yes. With Dee… and Benjamin Walker…" I mocked Ben's academic tone as I said his full name.  
"You're going with Benjamin Wanker?" He snorted. I couldn't help but laugh at the 'charming' nickname he had assigned to the orderly law student.  
"It wasn't my idea. You can thank your Aunt for that. She doesn't think we should be going without an escort." The annoyance in my voice was clear.  
"Dear God. Sounds like Mimi. Maybe I'll show up and give you a good time. God knows you won't find that with Mr. Wanker," John casually lit up the cigarette in his hand, acting nonchalant about whether he would come or not. The way he carried on made me think John reckoned he was doing me a big favor by merely entertaining the idea of appearing at the dance.  
"Do whatever you'd like. I can find fun in anything if I want to," I challenged. I didn't mention that it was actually Dee who enlivened most situations.  
"What kind of fun would you have with me?" John brushed his shoulder against mine and I didn't dare look at his face. I knew what expression he was probably holding right now anyway. Focusing elsewhere other than his cocky face, I noticed we had come across the front gate of the house.  
"Goodnight, John." I shot down his question and unlatched the gate, starting to walk forward and leaving him out in the rain again.  
"What? No thank you? Don't knights usually get a kiss on the cheek or a quickie, or something?" He raised his hands up to the rain in complaint.  
"Usually it's a handkerchief," I reformed. "And I don't have one."  
"A pair of your knickers would suffice." Even though I wasn't facing him, I could hear the devilish grin through his words. I turned around to say, for the last time,  
"_Goodnight, John._" In return he cocked his eyebrows and saluted. Instead of following me in, he turned back to the street. I had no idea where he might be going this time of night, but I was just glad to have shaken him off. Although I was grateful for his help finding my way back. Even though I returned both more annoyed and fascinated by him.


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm splitting the dance into two chapters. Here's the first. Read, review, and enjoy! _

The end of the week seemed to fly by. With what seemed to be a blink, it was already Saturday - the day of the dance.

I hadn't seen much of John since the 'mailbox incident'. Every time we had a quantity of time in conversation, I would only catch glimpses of him for the few days following. John was so sneaky that I wasn't sure if he made himself sparse on purpose or if it was coincidental. Either way I tried not to focus on it. I wasn't going to allow a boy to be the focal point of a new adventure. Liverpool was for me to discover new things, not to get tangled up in some sort of twisted romance.

Dee and I paid a visit to Liverpool Apparel in the morning to pick out new dresses for the dance. It didn't seem sensible to waste what little money we had on new clothes, but Dee had her heart set on making an appearance. As she said when she was trying to convince me into buying a dress, 'You can get away with anything if you look good.'  
I'm not entirely sure what she meant by that. Whether she had something up her sleeve or she just expected some sort of mischief to come our way, but to her delight, I ended up purchasing the dress. Feeling pretty foolish while doing it, but I knew I would get good use out of it. It was a deep magenta color with a wide scoop neck and cinched waist. There was a flat ruffle bordering the collar and hem, and black buttons all the way down the front. It was a surprisingly good find among the other quite plain dresses. Maybe that's why I had to pay too much for it. I still wasn't completely familiar with the currency, but I knew enough to know I was getting ripped off. I would have to make up for it in tips at the diner.

Dee had found her perfect dress right away. It was a bright yellow, pinstriped dress that boasted a bit of volume in the skirt. The sleeves reached nearly down to her elbow and a starch white collar folded against her tan-looking skin. Even in overcast England she kept a darker pigment than I did. The dress looked as if it was tailor made for her confident personality. I couldn't help but grin widely when she stepped out of the change room dressed in vibrant yellow.

The rest of the day we wasted away primping and allowing ourselves to bask in all things utterly girl like we had rarely done before. We kept snorting in laughter through home-done pedicures and uncomfortable panty hose, but we were still going through the motions. By the time the hall clock rang seven, Dee and I were dressed to the nines. Or eights, at least, but so much so that I worried we'd stick out among the crowd. After all, I had no idea how formal these dances were. The only reference I had were mandatory school dances and those were never much fun unless Dee and I ignored everyone else and danced like idiots together.

We were sitting in the parlor now, waiting for Benjamin to come to the house with the car he had borrowed from a college friend. I kept smoothing out my dress as a nervous habit as I worried about all the awkward scenarios I dreaded might happen.  
"Alice, stop fidgeting. We're going to have fun! Promise," Dee smiled big and squeezed my hand. I knew she was telling the truth from experience. Dee had always been extremely fun and I expected she'd turn this night into a great memory. I heard Benjamin come in through the front door and Dee winked at me. I grinned back at her. Both of us had heard what Ben was really like so we could enjoy watching him fake his way through angelic behavior without the disillusion.  
"You girls look breathtaking! All the men will be green with envy when they see me walk in with you two," he smiled through his 'innocent' compliment, but I had a feeling that behind his kind eyes he actually had his heart set on being envied by his peers. "I've got the car parked for you right outside. Might want to bring an umbrella with you. It's looking cloudy."  
I groaned which was my mother had warned me was not very ladylike, and a particular contradictory to my dressed-up, feminine appearance, but I had only seen a few days of straight sunshine since moving to Liverpool. Although today had been cloudless all day up until the early evening.  
Mrs. Smith came into the hall to see us off, but mostly to thank Benjamin for escorting us girls to the dance. Ha! As if we even asked for it... I heard a 'tsk' from her as she looked over our clothes. Probably thinking that they were too revealing, or not... gray enough; like the clothes she always wore.

The night was surprisingly warm in contrast to the surplus of clouds overhead. Benjamin helped us into the car which was a nice enough vehicle, but rust was wearing away near the tire rims and it didn't ride very smooth on the way over to the college. Finally the school came into view and my sore backside rejoiced. I couldn't wait to get a sneak peek into the college I would be attending in the fall. Hopefully I'd get a chance to sneak away from the dance and hunt down classroom 14 - the room one of my creative writing classes would be held in. I was also required to take English and penmanship as formalities, but even the mandatory classes were exciting, in my eyes. I got to choose my main study, something I never was able to do in high school.

I could tell Benjamin didn't have a car of his own because it took him a couple of tries to properly park the one he was driving. He brushed it off with side jokes and nervous laughs. When he did finally get the thing parked, he came around to our door and opened it for us. I nodded my thanks and Dee exhaled an overly pleased '_thank you_' to make me laugh. We didn't wait up for him while he locked the car so he had to take long strides to catch up. God forbid anyone see him running.  
Benjamin continued to open doors for us with forced smiles until we entered the main hall.

The dance was already well under way. The overhead lights were dimmed and someone had set up a couple of single-colored lights that jerkily moved back and forth across the dance floor. A record player was hooked up to three big speakers where a bored-looking man in his mid-twenties leaned back into a wooden chair. The table of refreshments at one end of the room only held punch, iced water, and styrofoam cups. It wasn't as well set up as the dances that had been carefully prepared at my school, but this was just a locally planned community dance. I was immediately aware of my formal dress and scanned the room to see what the other girls were wearing. I was relieved to see a couple of fancy numbers amongst the crowd, but Dee and I were still in the minority of girls who had dressed up to our degree. I felt a bit embarrassed and hoped it wouldn't draw any attention.

My first reaction was to go stand by the wall and watch the people dance, but Dee wasted no time in pulling me to the center of the dance floor. We left Ben standing at the door, looking a bit lost. Poor guy. He hadn't made his 'rounds' with us yet.

Unless someone had seen Dee dance, they couldn't grasp how carefree she actually was. When music started playing, she put her heart and soul into waving her hands around and bopping frantically. The way I pictured it in my mind made her sound like an awfully embarrassing partner to dance with, but whenever she danced I was reminded that was she actually very good. It was still a bit crazy to watch her bounce around as she did, but she kept a perfect rhythm. Through the rest of the song, I just shuffled my feet back and forth. It took me a while to get into the dancing spirit where I could ignore my inhibitions and let loose. When the song ended, a couple of the guys cheered out loudly. A couple beside Dee and I started cuddling and pecking each other with kisses. We both noticed them at the same time and Dee fluttered her eyes at me, jokingly.

Nearly everyone on the dance floor had turned towards the man sitting by the speakers as he sluggishly changed records. When the needle dropped, 'Jailhouse Rock' filled the room along with approving 'whoops' and excited screams. This single had come out a couple of years ago, if I was remembering correctly, and I had nearly worn out my copy. Dee and I had discovered the rock and roll  
genre through her parents who kept a decent record collection in their parlor. I always had to visit their house if I wanted to listen to rock music because my parents didn't have a positive attitude towards it. They allowed me to listen to it, deciding I was old enough to make my own decisions, but it was clear I'd have to keep it out of the house. The restrictions on the music only made it all the much better. I was always so glad when I finally got to hear my favorite record again - the raw, exciting sound. I could feel the music pumping in my chest as Dee grabbed my hands and forced me to start moving. I threw my head back and laughed. For the next few songs I danced my heart out.

A slow ballad came on so Dee and I made our way to the refreshment table, panting from exerting ourselves on the dance floor. We each downed a cup of cold water, finishing off with more deep breaths.

"Told you this would be fun," Dee grinned. I mirrored her smile and we charged right back into the middle of the room when the fast music picked up again. While we danced, Dee looked over my shoulder and widened her eyes. I looked behind me to see John saunter in, sticking to the wall and observing everyone around him. George followed through the doors behind him shortly after. John noticed me and nodded once. I expected him to waltz over and start bothering me right away, but he stayed back at the wall, muttering something to George who laughed in return.

The music was too loud to communicate through words, so when I turned back to face my dancing friend she wiggled her eyebrows. I just shrugged in return, the best representation I could lay across at the moment. I wondered why John didn't immediately approach me or why he even came at all, but he wasn't the reason I was here tonight. I wanted to have fun with my best friend, dance until my feet ached and possibly look around my future school. It was at least three more songs until Dee and I had to stop for a drink again. We laughed on the way over, all giddy from the electrifying feeling that buzzed around the room.  
"I feel like my heart is going to give out!" I spoke loudly over the music to Dee as I filled my cup with water.  
"That just means you're dancing the right way!" Dee grinned and chugged down her water. "Let's go back!" Her eyes were wild with energy and I couldn't help but laugh.  
"You go ahead. I need a break."  
"I'm going to get Ben on the dance floor. I want to see him try to dance," she winked with wicked intention and skipped off to find our 'escort'.

The night had been fantastic so far and we hadn't even been here for an hour. I finished the last of my water and took a seat across from the table to gain my bearings again. I watched with a very pleased expression as Benjamin danced next to Dee. It was comedic gold to see his uptight shuffle beside Dee's passionate whirls. I was having so much fun watching the two of them, I hardly noticed someone pull up a chair beside me.

A pleasant "Hello" got my attention easily enough and I looked beside me to see George give a small wave and half-smile.  
"Oh, hi! George, right?" I remembered him from the diner. He hadn't talked too awfully much, but he seemed nice enough.  
"You got it. Enjoying your first Liverpool dance?"  
"Immensely," I couldn't help but grin like a little girl on Christmas Day. I could feel the euphoria in the pit of my stomach.  
"Great, great..." He nodded as he looked around the room. His eyes paused on a pretty brunette across the room. Suddenly he seemed a bit less interested in me. I didn't feel slighted, though. It was cute to see the way his eyes lit up in a sort of awe when he landed his eyes on her.  
"Hey, John wanted me to tell you to meet him in the hallway. He said he wanted to give you a tour or something..." George was already getting up out of his seat as his sentence trailed off. He looked back at me to smile and shout, "Talk to you later, alright?" as he walked backwards towards the girl he had spotted before. I watched him stop to get a cup of punch first. It seemed that food and drink were a priority before beautiful women. I giggled to myself a bit and then reminded myself of what he had said - John was waiting for me in the hallway. I questioned why John had sent George in just to send me out to the hall and if John really wanted to give me a tour or if he was going to try something funny, but I was in too good of a mood to assume the worst. I looked back over to Dee as I walked over to the doors. She was still dancing with Ben, but I managed to catch eye contact and gestured towards the door to let her know I was going to look around. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up so I turned around and passed through the door.


	11. Chapter 11

_Part numero dos! Thank you again for your reviews. I've been getting zero school done because I can't wait to get you guys more chapters. ;P Read, review, and enjoy! _

The hallway was dark. There were lights on at each end of the hall, but the only light in the middle of the room shone in through a large window. I looked around, but I couldn't spot John, or anyone else for that matter.  
"Looking for me?"  
I spun my head over towards the direction of John's voice, but it came from a dark corner near the window that wasn't visible.  
"Yes... And I still am. Where are you? It's dark." I took a couple of steps forward and tried to peer into the corner.  
"I can't see you very well either. Do me a favor and step into the light."  
I took a couple more steps and stood into the light coming in through the window.  
"Mm. You Americans sure know how to dress yourselves, don't you?" I rolled my eyes and sighed impatiently. I didn't want to stand there to be gawked at. "How well can you _un_dress yourselves?"  
My agitation made me march over to the corner where it was so dark I could hardly see my own feet.  
"Where are you?" I hissed.  
"Boo," John whispered from behind me and slipped his hands around my waist. I took a step away from  
him and shoved his hands away.  
"God, are you auditioning for a horror movie? You've got the part..." I scoffed at him, but my waist still felt warm from where his hands rested. "George said you would give me a tour."  
"What, you actually want to see around the school?" I saw him step into the light of the window and I walked over to stand next to him. Finally. We were both visible. I didn't like being in the dark next to John.  
"Yes, of course I do! Why do you think I came out here?" I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.  
"To get your fix," John winked cockily.  
"Ha... I don't think so. Are you going to show me around or not?"  
"Why do you want to see the school so bloody bad anyway?" He looked genuinely annoyed. He probably expected something more personally pleasing than touring me around the school.  
"Because this is where I'm going this September."  
"You're kidding."  
"No. Why would I?"  
"'Cause this is where I go. You really can't get enough of me, can you?" Another one of his flirtatious grins; which almost always initiated an eye roll.  
I had been wondering why George said John would give me a tour. I gathered that maybe he was just familiar with certain buildings, but for some reason I hadn't thought of the possibility he took classes here.  
"_You_ go to this school?" I was having a hard time believing that he was pursuing a college education.  
"Yeah, when I feel like it." _Ding!_ That explained it. He blew off classes. "Come on then." John started walking off down the hall without waiting for me.  
"You don't have to walk that fast," I grumbled. "Keep in mind I've got to walk in this dress."  
"You could just take it off if you want." John said casually, not bothering to turn around and grin at me to make me feel uncomfortable.  
"Not a chance."  
"Then keep up." Was he honestly pissed that I actually wanted the tour he had used as bait to get me here? What an ass...

"So what are you takin' then?" I nearly missed what John had said because I wasn't expecting him to break the silence first.  
"Oh, uh, creative writing," I nodded even though he couldn't see me because he was still leading us down the hall.  
"Gonna spend all your time writing fairy tales, eh? What are you going to name your prince?" He spun around for a moment to bounce his eyebrows at me while he had his eyes crossed and his tongue bitten between his teeth. I laughed at his fleeting, funny face and then defended myself against his 'fairy tale' accusation.  
"No fairy tales. And I'm not going to be naming any prince John, if that's what you were looking for."  
"No, not at all! I'm more the villain type," John finally stopped in front of a door and leaned his back against it. He gave me an innocent smile before bursting it open and flicking on the light switch. When the light came on, I could clearly see the number on the door - _fourteen_. How did he know what classroom  
I was looking for?  
"What are you studying here?" I asked.  
Was he studying creative writing too, or did he just happen to know where the class room was?  
"Just some art shit. I'm only here because Mimi wanted to see me in some sort of college." '_That's ambitious,_' I thought to myself.

The classroom wasn't very large, but it managed to fit roughly thirty small desks. Being that this was the room for my main class, I had expected a bit more, but I was glad to know that the class wasn't going to be too big. I wandered over to the blackboard, then over to the windows. John had made himself comfortable in a desk, leaning his feet against the other desk's chair beside him. After I walked along the wall of windows, I made my way over to the seats and sat next to the desk John's feet had occupied.

"So what do ya think?" John was fiddling around with a cigarette in his hands.  
"I like it. The view is going to be great in the morning with all those windows..." I gazed back over to the wall of rectangle windows that covered the upper half of the wall. I turned back to John when I heard him strike up a match. He had lit up his cigarette and was waving the match out before stamping it into the linoleum.  
"Are you allowed to smoke in here?" I asked, surprised.  
"No," he answered blatantly and took a deep drag from his cigarette. He blew the smoke right in my direction and I started coughing.  
"God, you're just a perfect little angel aren't you? Don't drink, smoke, or mess around with boys. It must be awfully uncomfortable living with a pole up yer ass," John smirked. I could tell he was just trying to get a rise out of me so I suppressed my eye roll and ignored him. In a few moments of complete silence, I noticed the music from the dance was audible from the classroom. They were playing 'Great Balls of Fire' and I started tapping my foot along to the beat.  
"What made you invade Liverpool anyway? Are you an American spy? World war is over, love, we don't need you anymore," he smirked again. He was being awfully rude tonight. Usually his rudeness was just a subset of his vulgar behavior, but he seemed to be pulling some sort of power play by acting uninterested and cold. Not something I was going to fall for.  
"I didn't _invade_ Liverpool. It was randomly chosen," I stated, matter-of-fact.  
"How's that?" John shifted one foot over the other in his chair and took another smoke from his cigarette. Thankfully this time he blew it off towards the door, instead of into my face.  
"Well, honestly..." I didn't want to say out loud how Dee and I had chosen to move here. It seemed so childish when I thought of saying it audibly. "Dee just spun around and pointed to a random place on the map..."  
John burst forth into a delighted chuckle. "You just fuckin' moved somewhere a finger had landed on? That's fucking insane."  
"What I find more insane is that her finger landed right on Liverpool when the chances were much greater of landing in the ocean."  
"Liverpool was calling, Miss Montana. Lucky you ended up here. You got to meet the man of your dreams." John smiled cheekily at me and this time I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.  
"Now that you know how I got here, I get to ask you a question."  
"Oh?" John looked intrigued.  
"Yeah. What the hell is your last name?" It had been nearly two weeks since I met him and I still didn't have a clue. I got a couple of loud 'Haha's' from John before I got an answer, but he finally said,  
"It's Lennon. John Winston Lennon. Can't forget it if ya tried." John stamped out his cigarette and left a burn mark on the linoleum. I furrowed my eyebrows at his carelessness, but I didn't say anything. I had a feeling he would just shrug it off anyway.  
There were another few moments of silence where the records were being changed. Suddenly a slow song started muffling its way through the wall.

I felt awkward sitting alone in the room with John while a romantic song played. Meanwhile he looked perfectly at ease. Suddenly he got up from his chair, grabbed my hand and started leading me to the front of the room.  
"What are you doing?" I was too befuddled to pull my hand from his.  
"We're going to dance," he declared.  
"Aren't you going to ask me first?" I chastised.  
"Nope."  
"Why not?"  
John turned around, placed my hand on his shoulder and slipped his hand over my hip, intertwining our fingers. "'Cause you'd say no." He had a point.

I could feel his eyes on me as we swayed back and forth. I kept my eyes on our feet, too embarrassed to look at him.

"You've never danced with a boy, have you?" I dared to look up to I see him grinning.  
"Honestly? No." He let out a short, amused laugh and stared down at me again.  
"That means you've never kissed a boy either, eh?" He looked nonchalant, but his question made my ears go warm and my cheeks flare up.  
"...No..." I could feel my hands start to get clammy. I did not like where this was going. _Confidence, confidence..._ I just had to keep reminding myself of that. But confidence to do what? To reject John or maybe...? No. No way.

"Then you need a tutor." John was a pro at keeping his cool. He was gazing out the windows behind me as we continued dancing; acting as if our conversation was nothing out of the blue.  
"A tutor for kissing? How does someone teach someone to kiss?" I scoffed a bit, but it was mostly lost in soft, nervous laughter.  
"It's easy," John looked back at me and I fought the urge to look down again. "You put your arms around their neck." He lifted my arms, which were limp with uneasiness and draped them over his shoulders. This is when I caved and finally darted my eyes back to the floor. I didn't even want to think about how red my cheeks were.

"Then you lift your chin..." John put his finger under my chin and guided it upwards until my eyes met his. "Then you lean in..." The brown eyes I was staring into got closer to mine until I could feel his warm breath against my mouth, our lips just over an inch away.

"And then you kiss 'em!" John took a step back and shrugged his arms in the air as mine fell to my sides. I noticed my mouth was agape so I quickly shut it, but I couldn't believe how easily he had strung me along for those few moments. I put my hands on my hips and tried to think of something caustic to say, but my mind was whirling.

"I'm a great tutor, aren't I?" He was absolutely smug with pleasure. I could tell. I bet he just wanted to prove to himself that he could have kissed me had he wanted to. Maybe now he would leave me alone.

"You're the only tutor I've had. I'll try some others and get back to you," I slighted, and walked past him to get out into the hallway. I wanted nothing more than to get back to the dance. I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I wasn't sure if it was because I almost kissed John Lennon or because I _didn't_ kiss John Lennon.

John followed me, shutting the classroom door behind him.  
"How did you know where the creative writing classroom was?" I don't know what made me ask, but I was curious and I didn't have much else to say.  
"Oh is that what it's for?" John turned around and rapped his fist against the number fourteen painted on the door. "That's just where everyone goes to snog during free periods." '_God, I should have known_.'  
"Charming," I jeered and started walking down the hall from where we had come.  
"That's not the only place, though. There's a supply closet near the main hall that I bet a couple of horn dogs are using right now." I wasn't impressed with his knowledge of make out locations.  
"So?"  
"So I've got an idea, follow me." He swerved into another hall to the left. For a moment I considered ignoring him and heading back to the dance alone, but I couldn't help but wonder what plan he had in mind.

By the time I caught up to him, he was ducking out of a room with a bucket in his hand and started walking back down the hall I had just trekked. So I swerved on my heel and rushed to keep up with him. He didn't say a word, he just sauntered towards the main hall with the bucket in his hand.

When we got to the doors of the main hall, he put his finger up to his lips and slowly opened the door.  
"Stay here." I watched as he stepped lightly over to the refreshment table and poured a couple of pitchers of the ice cold water into the bucket. I heard someone next to me say 'What's Lennon up to now?'  
I wasn't surprised that he had a reputation for this kind of thing. He sped back over to me as quickly as he could without spilling any water out of the bucket. Despite his efforts, he still slopped some of the water onto the floor. He led me around the corner to a door labeled 'Supply closet'. With a devilish grin directed my way, he flung the door open and splashed the bucket of cold water all over a couple who still had their arms around each other.

They girl shrieked and the boy gasped loudly through the chilling water. When they both turned around, I recognized it to be George and the brunette he had scoped out earlier. My jaw dropped. John's eyes lit up with utter amusement.  
Poor George stood for a second within a puddle of water before his eyebrows furrowed and he snapped his eyes towards John.  
With bucket still in hand, the brown-haired teddy boy dared to cockily grin which set George off enough to take a dive at him. John jumped back, grabbed my hand as he dropped his bucket and started running.  
"Don't drag me into this!" My voice wavered as my shoes slammed against the floor, running fast.  
"Too late!" John burst through the school's front doors out into the open outdoors. He didn't let go of my hand until we were hidden behind a nearby tree. When he finally released my hand, he plopped down on the grass and guffawed until he clenched at his sides. I nervously glanced towards the front door a couple of times, expecting a displeased George to come storming out, but when I saw no signs of him, I started to laugh too. I sat down on the grass next to John where he had laid right down, his head resting on his arms. Our laughs trailed off to contented sighs.

"That was an awful thing to do, but I have never seen such a horrified expression plastered on two people's faces like that before," I breathed heavily, trying to catch from breath from the running and long laughter.  
John chuckled and lifted one hand from behind his head to rest on his stomach.  
"I told you I would show you a good time." My ears pricked up when he said that. I had forgotten that he had promised that. Not that he seemed very committed to it, but he had ended up doing just what he said warranted and, for some reason, I was impressed.  
"Well then," John grunted as he got up. "I'm going to split. Just a secret between you and me, these dances are actually pretty lame," John winked and pretended to whisper past the back of his hand. I allowed myself to laugh at that and I leaned back into the grass. The night was so warm that it made the lawn of the school soft. I felt like I was lying on Mother Nature's bed.  
"Why did you come then?" I challenged. John stepped over me, one leg on each side of my body, and kneeled down to look me right in the eyes.  
"Why did you come to the snogging room with me?"  
I was too intimidated by the intimate situation to say anything. I just bit my bottom lip and looked blankly into his eyes.  
"God, you've got to stop doing that," It was John's turn to roll his eyes. I quickly let my bottom lip go and grimaced slightly. John stared back into my eyes, then to my lips, and back to my eyes. It looked as if he was debating what to do with me. I was practically pinned beneath him... For some reason I hadn't tried to shove him off yet.  
"Goodnight, Miss Montana." John winked, stood up and started walking off towards the parking lot without glancing behind. I bit my cheek and stared up towards the clouds, trying to regain my thoughts.  
What the hell was going on with me? John Lennon was the most vulgar and rude person I think I'd ever met. So why did I have to 're-compose' myself each time he got close to me? I got up from the grass, wiped off my dress and strolled back to the front doors. Dee was in for a long friend-therapy session when we got back home.


	12. Chapter 12

After returning from the dance, Dee and I had collapsed into our beds. We were so exhausted that I didn't get the chance to pour out my frustrations to her. Although she had noticed something was bothering me when I had met up with her again after spending time with John.

After John had left, Dee and I danced the night away with Benjamin. He was as stiff as an ironing board, but he served as comedic side-show to the music. I had convinced Ben, with Dee's help, to give George a ride back home being that he was still quite soaked even by the time the dance ended. His date had left early because she was so horridly embarrassed. It was the least I could do to share the backseat of the car with him after witnessing, without intervention, John's prank. Ben didn't approve of George. It was obvious from the way he brushed the boy off and kept narrowing his eyes at him through the rearview mirror, but George got his revenge by wringing out his clothes onto the seat of the car while our persnickety driver wasn't looking.

When I woke up the following morning and went through my morning routine, I could feel my feet fighting against every step I took. They ached horribly. I ate at the breakfast table alone – I had missed the early morning meal that Mrs. Smith scheduled so I just reheated the waffles she had made in the oven. By the time I had finished up my breakfast and gotten ready for the day ahead, Dee had woken up and gotten dressed. She was brushing her hair, with my hairbrush as she usually did, when I came back upstairs and into our room.

"Good morning!" She chirped with a bright smile.  
"Greetings to you and your loved ones." I waved my hand in front of me and took a dramatic bow before her. I flipped my loose, blonde hair back up to see her laugh at me. I grinned back at her and slumped onto my bed.  
"So are you going to tell me what happened last night? You were acting awfully different when you came back from touring the school." Dee looked at me through the reflection of her mirror to see me sigh and look up towards the ceiling. I kept my sights above me as I explained every detail of what had happened with John.  
"And the worst part is… I think I _might_… like him. In a small, _small _way. Only when he's being pleasant, though. Most of the time he's being awful. I shouldn't even like him a bit! He's trouble and I know it. Besides, we moved to Liverpool for an adventure. You and me! Not you, me, and some boy I've just met. I should just forget about all of this, shouldn't I?" I finally broke my gaze to look over at my friend. She had sat on her bed, my hairbrush still in her hand, and looking intent.  
"Alice…" She shook her head and crossed over to my bed to sit on the edge. Dee usually said my first name before giving me words of reassurance so I waited with baited breath for her comforting, wise words. Most people only saw the outgoing, careless, and free side of Dee, but they always missed the soft, compassionate side of her that made her such a valuable friend. "What do you think an adventure is defined as?"

I wasn't expecting her to ask a question like that… It seemed simple enough, but my mind went blank. "I… I don't know…" Narrowly escaping falling avalanches and exploring ancient catacombs didn't exactly apply to our situation. "Trying new things, I suppose. New experiences? Creating memories. That's what we came here for…"

"And what do you think you may get out of giving John a chance, hm? It would be trying something new, I would think. Might be a new experience… Might create memories." Dee raised her eyebrows at me, implying everything I had been avoiding since I met John. I was silent. Dee had left me speechless by turning my words right back over on me. She had a pretty sound case and I couldn't think of anything to rebuke it. Thankfully, Dee didn't wait for me to answer

"You know, I was talking to George. He told me about a club where a bunch of live bands play. We should go check it out. You don't have to make a decision regarding this whole 'John thing' right now, anyway." I breathed a sigh of relief. Dee had brought about some realizations for me to sort through, but being the good friend she is, she offered me some space from it – a distraction. Maybe that's what I needed.

"Sounds like fun. What's the club called?" I sat up in my bed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"The Cavern."


	13. Chapter 13

_So a bit of history fudging here. Most sources say that the opening harmonica riff was added to 'Love Me Do' in 1962 at the request of George Martin, but, hell, that riff is so great it can time travel. The Cavern Club visit is being split into two chapters because I love making you guys wait. ;) Thanks again for the positive reviews! Enjoy (: _

The hall clock chimed six o'clock and it rang through the quiet house of Mendips. The Monday evening was warm with the welcoming of July and for once the sky was clear of grey clouds. At Dee's proposal last night, we had made plans to visit The Cavern – a local club which boasted great music and cheap drinks. The latter I didn't hold much interest in, but I was excited about listening to bands from around the Merseyside area. In Montana, I never found the opportunity of watching a live concert of any kind. The closest I could get was crouching up in front of the television screen to watch with anticipation as Elvis Presley, Bo Diddley and Buddy Holly performed on the Ed Sullivan show. It seemed like a great way to celebrate Independence Day week. My parents had gone through the trouble of mailing me a small U.S. flag a couple of days prior. Dee and I had erected in the front garden, hoping that Mrs. Smith wouldn't take notice. We had a bet on whether our landlord would notice it before the fourth rolled around.

Dee put the finishing touches on her hair as I slipped on a pair of short-heeled pumps. I didn't have much luck when it came to walking in heels, so I always scavenged for short heels, the thicker the better. We took a while getting ready. Dee was fussing over small details and had insisted on helping me pick out a dress. She had approved a dress I hadn't worn since the day of our graduation which was merely weeks ago. It wasn't the style I was used to wearing. It had long sleeves that reached my elbows, but it exposed my chest and shins too much for my complete comfort. Not to mention it felt tight. I had bought it for graduation after my mother insisted I tried on heaps of dresses. Finally I had grown tired of shopping and settled for the dress. I had no idea why Dee was so set on me wearing this particular dress tonight, but she seemed pleased and I might as well wear something a bit different to a new place.

After fussing around with clothes and make-up, we finally headed out for the bus stop. George had given Dee the directions on how to get to the club so we were able to find it with hardly any hassle. When the bus chugged to a stop, we leaped off and excitedly cantered down the street until a neon light shone out the words we were looking for: _The Cavern_.

There was a muscly bouncer who leaned against the doorframe. When I spotted him, I looked over to Dee anxiously. Dee's birthday had been in in March so all she needed to do was flash her passport and move on. Meanwhile, my birthday was still five months away and I was critically aware of the gap. Dee raised her head up and rolled her shoulder back confidently, linking my arm with hers. She pulled us towards the entrance and nodded a greeting towards the bouncer who stepped to the side to make way for us. I suppressed my surprise at how easily he had let us through until we had gained a fair distance from the brawny employee.  
"How did you do that?" My eyes widened as I turned to my friend, with whom I was thoroughly impressed.  
"Don't you remember what I told you? Look good and you can get away with anything." She winked and a big smile crept across my face. The smile turned into a bit of a grimace as we advanced further into the club. It went completely underground and the air was stuffy. The walls were damp and the smell of sweat and beer filled my lungs as we turned into the main stage area. The room was very narrow. Wooden chairs were set up in crooked rows in front of the stage and brick arches lined each side of the stage all the way to the back wall. Beyond the arches were a bar and a door leading to the dressing room and stage area. A couple of people were smoking in a corner, which didn't help with the murky air. I nearly choked when we took our first steps in.  
"Now this is what I call an adventure!" Dee laughed and wrinkled her nose. "You can't say you've ever been to a place like this before…"  
"Either I'll get used to all these smells, or the band will have to be very, _very_ good." If neither of those happened, I was out of here. Although the people who lined the walls and occupied the chairs spiked my curiosity. They all seemed to be very much in their environment, but they were also damp with sweat.

"Hey look who it is!" Dee pointed over to two figures across the room and waved to them. My eyes were a bit watered from the smoke, but after blinking away the moisture I could clearly see George and Paul. I waved to them with an excited smile. I was glad to run into some other people I knew within a room full of strangers. The only concern I had was whether their troublesome friend accompanied them. If I had come here alone, I'd probably be out the door already. I didn't want to chance seeing John, but I hazarded approaching George and Paul, hoping and praying that their duo wasn't a trio.

"Hello, _hello_," George drew out his words with a smile and waved both hands.  
"How do you two like The Cavern?" Paul smiled with a glint in his eye. I think he knew fully well that the environment surrounding The Cavern was a shock to all the new-comers.  
"I'll get used to it… I hope. Do the two of you come here often?" At my question, the two boys looked at each other and laughed heartily. George quieted himself down to answer me.  
"All the time! We play here." I quirked my head at him and squinted my eyes.  
"You two are in a band?" Again, the both of them laughed, but this time it was softer and Paul answered my question,  
"Yeah! The best band in Liverpool. I'm surprised John didn't mention it." The ends of Paul's lips dipped down with a shrug.  
"He does like his bragging rights," George nodded.  
"Maybe he wanted to make a show of it. You're going to catch him off guard by showing up tonight." Paul grinned at the idea of this and I snapped my head towards Dee with an anxious look. She didn't look surprised at all when I looked at her, but when she met my eyes, she widened hers and shrugged.

"Dee, did you know they were playing tonight?" I whispered through my teeth, trying to stay as polite as I could in front of George and Paul. They weren't paying much attention though. They had found a french fry on the floor and they were trying to light it on fire with a match.  
"Well," Dee twirled the word around her tongue around and twisted on her heel, with an expression of artificial innocence. I could see right through her act.  
"Why in the world would you bring me here if you knew John was going to come?" I whined. I could not believe she was doing this to me.  
"Didn't you hear what Paul said? You're catching him off-guard. You're waltzing into his territory instead of the other way around. Trust me, Alice, if you don't see John tonight you're going to ignore him until it becomes so awkward we have to move countries again." Dee laughed a bit and put her hands on my shoulders.  
"Don't overthink this. You're here to have fun and you're going to have it whether John is here or not. And I bet by the end of the night, your mind will be made up about all of this." Dee was looking into my eyes, pleading for trust. I bit my lip and seriously considered rushing towards the door while I still had the chance, but Dee had never let me down. I knew I should trust her so, against better judgment, I gave in.  
"Fine. I'll stay." We turned back to George and Paul who were stamping out a burnt piece of unrecognizable fry.  
"So, is John here now?" I tried to act nonchalant. The last thing I needed was them knowing how nervous I was to see John.  
"Nah, not yet. He should be, though! He's always late by at least ten minutes." Paul puckered his lips and checked his watch.  
"Once he didn't show up until we were headed on stage. Then he just rushed up with his guitar, right past us. Remember?" George elbowed Paul in the rib and they both grinned a little. So John could come at any moment - without warning. Great. I needed to change the subject to calm my nerves.  
"Will John show up all bruised and battered after that trick he pulled on you last night?" It was hard to believe the dance was only last night. It seemed like a distant memory. Maybe because my encounter with John had seemed too surreal and the rest of the night followed suit. George chuckled to himself and shook his head.  
"No, no. I was never going to fight John. Never will… I don't think." George grinned mischievously at Paul who laughed and pretended to look worried. "I like my revenge planned out carefully." George looked pleased and I laughed at his ambiguous statement.  
"Do you have revenge planned yet?" Dee asked, looking delighted with his hijinks.  
"Absolutely! It's already in motion. You see, yesterday I unscrewed the salt shaker cap and he poured a heap of it onto his potatoes. He thought that was my revenge, but that was only to set him off the scent. I _was_ going to fill some cookies with toothpaste and offer it to him, but I ended up eating all the cookies… So I'm just going to cover his bedroom door handle with honey." George nodded, looking pleased with himself again. Dee and I cracked up. From burning foreign french fries to pranking each other, these two were very entertaining.

We stuck around to chat with them before they had to head back stage and get their equipment set up. They waved to us as they shuffled around a couple of amps and plugged in chords. Paul had mentioned there was a back entry leading into the dressing room and I was easing myself with the idea that John would enter through there and I would go unnoticed.

"We better find a seat." Dee nodded towards the chairs that were filling up in front of us. A few people had plopped themselves right on the edge of the stage and small groups were wedged between the brick arches, trying to get a good view. I hadn't realized how quickly the club had filled up until we tried to find a place to sit. The back row would have been optimal, in my opinion, but the less rowdy customers had already situated themselves there with collected demure. The fourth row held a few open seats so Dee and I settled ourselves in. A man came on stage, grabbed the microphone and rallied up the crowd for the next act. With each booming word I could feel my heart beat quickly in the pit of my stomach.

"Ladies and dishonorable men, please put your hands together for _The Quarrymen_!" My feet slid under my chair and my eyes stayed glued to the stage. Applause erupted from those who had crowded around the stage. I could hear Dee clap beside me, but my hands felt too limp to move. I did not want to see John, I did not want to see John...  
No matter how many times I chanted it in my head, it didn't change the fact that John was the first to run on stage, followed by George and Paul. All three quickly plugged in their guitars and John stepped up to the microphone. He squinted towards the crowd and yelled out,  
"Alright all of you! We're going to play you a new song here. And I'm not wearing my glasses, so if you start booing, I won't be able to hear you!" John stuck his chin forward with a cheeky grin and took a step back to nod at Paul who mouthed a countdown. A bluesy harmonica riff resonated from John who I hadn't even noticed pull a harmonica from his pocket. With a deep breath, he stepped up to the microphone with Paul and they started to sing.

_"Love, love me do…"_


	14. Chapter 14

_Part two of The Cavern visit. Read on and enjoy... I think you may like the ending. Don't forgot to review! _

The rest of the set was electrifying. Their spirits were high and their vibe zipped through the audience to get them clapping along to rhythms and dancing in front of the stage. Halfway through their act, more people came pouring into the cramped quarters of the Cavern. I had never been good at estimations, but I gathered that there must have been over a hundred people hanging around to listen to the music by the time all three boys left the stage. It was an understatement to say Dee and I were impressed. Neither of us had even known that they had a band. Well, Dee had known a day longer than I had, but this was our first time watching a performance.

"I was not expecting that!" I laughed while I clapped along with the crowd.  
"I know! We should sneak backstage and let them know how good they were." Dee nudged my shoulder with a sly expression and pointed over to the back door. The door which specifically read, '_BAND AND MANAGEMENT ONLY.' _I frowned at her as I considered the risk.  
"I guess being that we know the band…" Dee took this as my consent, grabbed my hand and rushed us over to the door. We both looked over our shoulders and hurried into the back room with anxious giggles. There in front of us was John, Paul, and George, guitars still slung around their shoulders and each looking a bit sweaty from their efforts. The spirit of the music instilled an unexplainable confidence in me as I made eye contact with John. That was the thing about music, it could take you anywhere and I was glad it had given me the courage to face him. It was silly that I had been nervous at all to see him again. The unknown, school presentations, and my mother's driving made me nervous – not boys. So I offered him, and the others, a big grin.

"You guys were fantastic!" My face lit up and I ran up to them.  
"We know," Paul grinned and looked over to John who mirrored his smirk.  
"I didn't know you were coming tonight, Miss Montana." John didn't meet my eyes as he lifted his guitar over his head to set it down in a hard-shell case.  
"I didn't know you were coming tonight either," I retorted.  
"Ha! Lucky you, eh?" He winked and latched up his guitar case. Dee had been talking to George and Paul, but the three of them looked over at John and I momentarily. '_Do not blush…' _I commanded myself. Drawing attention to myself was not something I was a fan of. "You better come back. We did good tonight. Maybe you're our good luck charm." John stepped close to me, his guitar case in hand. He raised his eyebrows once and then walked past me and out the door, lightly rubbing his shoulder against mine.  
"Better go pack up. We'll drop down here again before we head off." Paul offered a quick wave and then he and George followed John out the door. Dee waited until the door had closed before rushing over to me.  
"_So_?" She looked expectantly at me.  
"So…what?" Dee scoffed impatiently at my response.  
"So are you going to have John's babies?" She giggled tauntingly and I shoved her shoulder.  
"Dee! Shush! What if he came in here?" I tried to sound serious, but I broke into laughter as I glanced at the door. "You are unbelievable."  
"I know!" Dee flipped her hair back and mocked the egocentric classmates we had left behind us in Montana. I laughed again and took in a deep breath of cigarette smoke and musty condensation.  
"Ugh, I need some fresh air. I can't believe I've lasted this long down here." My features crinkled at the sickening smell and I walked up to the back exit.  
"I was made for this type of place. You're just so weak, Alice," Dee teased with a playful smirk. "I'll come find you after I say goodbye to the guys." I nodded and shoved my way through the heavy door. A dark and narrow alleyway filled my view. The air was more fresh than the stuffy cavern, but the alley couldn't offer the same quality as air as the open street so I strolled towards a lit lamp post in front of a building that neighbored the club.

I inhaled a few deep breaths of the fresh air. My ears were ringing quietly from the loud music, but the pleasant July air vanquished any discomfort, including the weariness in my feet that was returning from the night before. I leaned up against the lamp post and overlooked the Liverpudlian street before me. A couple of inebriated friends rowdily shouted as they stumbled into another club. Being that I was of safe distance from being noticed, I laughed to myself at their amusing friendship. Both were staggering awfully from their liquor, but they both insisted on helping the other one stand.

"What's so funny?" I gasped and whipped around to see John salute a greeting. "My, my, you're jumpy."  
"Only because you snuck up on me in a dark, sketchy street!" I countered. John just chuckled to himself and shook his head.  
"You think this is a sketchy street? No, love, this is the suburbs! If you want to see a _real_ sketchy street, I'd more than happy to show you."  
"No," I chided quickly. I turned away from him to rest back against the lamp post, determined to act as though he wasn't there.  
"Alright, then! You're awfully moody."  
I scoffed. Not a good choice of words.

"I'll start over." I heard John's footsteps walk in the opposite direction before a quick _swish_ announced him swiveling over and journeying back. He strode right past me and the looked over his shoulder twice.  
"Well hello there, little lady." John grinned and put on a Texan accent and I rolled my eyes in response.  
"Suddenly you're Texan?" I inquired.  
"Yup," John nodded casually with an indifferent smirk.  
I was hesitant to ask why. If I knew anything about John, I assumed he was setting me up for something. I breathed a groan of submittal and asked, "Why?"  
"Because everything's bigger in Texas." There it is. No further words were needed to clue me in on exactly what he was referring to. I scoffed again and leaned up from the light pole.  
"You're awful." I started to walk back to the door of The Cavern. My mind was made up. When I saw John play tonight, my opinion of him changed a bit. Before, I thought he was just some loser who aspired to be nothing and do nothing, but when I saw him on that stage, his eyes seemed to light up. He had talent and he had passion. That spoke to his character… Until I talked to him. Talent or not, John was still everything I thought him to be. Vulgar, tasteless, and rude. Maybe I hadn't given him chance enough, but I felt quite convinced that I was done with anything and everything involving John Lennon as I walked away from him. That is until he spoke again.

"Wait!" There must have been a small part of me that wasn't willing to give up so easily or else I would not have turned around to face him as I did. "What's your problem? Do you think you're better than me or something?" I was taken aback at his harsh words, but at the same time his questions ran through my mind. If I was perfectly honest with myself, I would have to admit that, on some level, I had never given him a fair chance. From the moment I saw him, I had judged the book by its leather-bound cover. "Listen," John's voice softened and he approached me with long strides. "I'm not a bad guy." The pleading in his eyes stunned me. Was this the real John I was seeing? All I had witnessed so far was a bad-boy with a big ego and even bigger need to amuse those around him. This was the first time I saw anything different from him, but I couldn't trust him enough to be completely convinced.

"Prove it." I looked into his brown eyes with intent. I needed him to know that I wasn't another girl for him to have his way with and toss aside. I wasn't a challenge to be overcome.

John didn't answer. He just gazed into my eyes until his stare fell to my lips. My ears went warm. John took a step closer towards me. My cheeks flushed. I had felt his hands try to fall upon my waist before, but that's when he was teasing me. Now, standing in front of him, both of us silent, he wrapped his arms right around me. It was my natural reaction to put my hands up to his chest to stop him, but I never found the force to push him away. Before I could say or do anything else, John dipped his head down and crushed his lips against mine. His arms had to nearly support me as my knees went weak. It felt like his passion was drilling me into the ground. Time seemed to halt completely. There had been so many nights I had stayed up, worrying myself over an awkward first kiss, but all my fretting had been useless. All the cares in the world melted away. When John pulled away, my mind had been wiped of all my thoughts. As usual, he had left me speechless.

"Tomorrow. At seven, in front of the house. Meet me there." John moved a strand of my hair back to whisper into my ear. He pulled me close to him again and stared into my eyes. I was anticipating another kiss, but he just pecked me on the cheek. "See you tomorrow… Alice." It was the first time he had used my name and it sent chills up my spine. His arms slinked away from me, his hands briefly hesitating on my hips. Then with a grin, he strode off into the street and out of sight.


	15. Chapter 15

_Long chapter for you all! I've had a busy weekend so it took a while to finish.  
As usual, thank you so much for your positive reviews! I love, love, love reading them all over and over before writing a chapter. Haha! Read, review and enjoy!_

July second, nineteen fifty-nine was contesting to become the most nerve-wracking and exciting days I had witnessed yet. My eyes burned a hole through the clock that hung above the kitchen door at the diner. The last few hours of my shift seemed to drag on so slowly that I was tempted to oil the hands of the clock and spin them forwards.

This time yesterday I was getting ready to go to The Cavern with Dee. I had returned from that visit quite different. Hardly any words found their way past my lips as I rode the bus home next to my, thankfully, chatty friend. She had just called me back into The Cavern just as my cheeks found their natural hue after the kiss with John, but just because my cheeks were back to normal didn't mean my mind was. As I bid my spacey farewells to George and Paul, I couldn't help but replay the kiss over and over in my head. I couldn't help but remember the way he had looked at me as I rode the bus home. I couldn't help but feel how his arms had wrapped around me as I tossed in my bed. And now as I hung up my apron and punched out, I couldn't help but think of his whispers in my ear. "…Seven, in front of the house. Meet me there…"

It felt like I stumbled all the way to the bus stop. Usually I would have taken the time to walk back to Mendips as I had been doing before, enjoying the fresh air and new surroundings, but I was too nervous to waste time.  
For some reason I hadn't told Dee about the kiss. I think she knew I was holding something back. She knew me too well to not notice, but I still didn't mention anything. Honestly, I think she was a bit dejected at my secrecy and I couldn't blame her. We had always told each other everything, but this _thing_ with John, whatever it was, seemed so fragile. As if just uttering a few words about it would break it into a million pieces. It felt silly to treat a kiss as if it was something sacred, but I hadn't ever had a kiss before. I didn't know what the protocol was for these things.

By the time the bus had rolled to my stop, I had set my mind against keeping this from Dee any longer. I needed my best friend, her wise words and her assurance. I needed her help for silly things like choosing what to wear and assuring me that my hair looked just fine if it wasn't styled. After walking quickly towards Mendips I nearly burst through the door before leaping up the stairs. I barged into our room with an excited smile, relieved that I wouldn't be keeping anything from her anymore. But when I searched our room, a very important figure was missing from her bed. One of her magazines, full of pictures of locations around the world, lay deserted on her bed and I looked just as lonely as it did. I sunk on my bed and tossed my purse onto my pillow, pausing a moment to frown at Dee's empty bed before rising to change.

_"I wish Dee was here..."_ My mental groan stuck in the back of my mind while I tried over and over to choose an outfit. After (finally) getting changed, brushing through my hair and re-touching my make-up, I fiddled with things around the room, trying to pass the time. I doodled in my notebook, re-read letters from my parents and sorted my sock drawer. When the hall clock chimed seven I nearly jumped. Could I even go through with this? I felt like jumping onto the tree that brushed against my window and escaping to somewhere far, far away. What was wrong with me? I had come here looking for adventure and now I wanted to re-locate to Africa just over meeting with a boy. But I knew deep down that it just wasn't any boy… It was _John.  
_  
I grabbed a jacket from my closet and slowly found my way downstairs. I peeped into the parlor and dining room, looking for any sign of the Mendips residencies, but no one was in sight. No distractions.

My hand felt clammy against the brass knob of the front door. I took my time turning the handle and opened the door slowly. I felt exposed as I took the first step outside. For all I knew, this could be an elaborate prank. Maybe John wouldn't even show up. That's what the worst part of this was - I was putting myself out there and I could end up looking like a complete fool.

I wished I could have had one of my favorite rock and roll hits playing in my ear to guide my feet and strike up the inner confidence it always seemed to surface. When I reached the main street, I leaned up against the fence that enclosed my Liverpool home. Each minute seemed like an eternity when, in reality, it had only been a couple of minutes before I heard footsteps to my left. My head spun around to see John focusing his sights on his feet, taking careful steps and seemingly muttering to himself. When he got closer, I could decipher what he was saying.

"Forty-eight... forty-nine... fifty!" John leaped the last step and swiveled quickly to look at me and grin. "Oh look, the treasure is you!"  
His grin alone could have made me laugh. "Where in the world did you find your treasure map?"  
John paused for a moment then masked a meaningful expression and traced a heart with his fingers on the left of his chest. When I laughed again, he grinned and slipped his arm around my waist to lead us down the street.  
"Where are we going?" It was the question that had been burning in my mind since last night.  
"You'll see." John didn't look at me while he answered, he just squinted into the distance, but I could tell he was enjoying leading me on.  
"Can't I at least get a hint?" I pleaded.  
"Hm. Alright...  
_Summer children gathering for tea  
In the field of the Salvation Army._"  
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes.  
"Points for a poetic hint, but that wasn't very helpful." There was still so much of Liverpool to discover and there wasn't any location I could connect to John's vague description.  
"Guess you'll just have to wait then."  
John was full of grins today. But this time his big smirks weren't following a dirty joke or in inappropriate innuendo.  
"I'm not very patient, you better walk faster." I laughed a bit, the first half of my sentence was quite true, but the last was a joke. John didn't see it that way, though.  
"Okay." And before I knew it, John had taken his arm from my waist, grabbed my hand and started running like the wind. I couldn't run as fast as him. His height gave him an advantage and as I started to laugh harder and harder, I fell behind until John had to stop for me. My hair was a bit blown back and my sides were aching from a combination of running and laughing. As I tried to catch my breath through giggles, I looked at John who was smiling big at me, my hand still in his.

"You run fast," I stated, still a bit out of breath.  
"You run slow," John countered. I pretended to look annoyed before breaking into my smile again. He took a couple of slow steps towards me which didn't help the heart that was already beating fast.  
"Come on, slowpoke. We're almost there." John slung his arm around my shoulders.  
"_Ouch_. That pulls my hair." It didn't actually hurt, but I could feel the strain.  
"_God_, touchy and slow!" John winked and then lifted his arm slightly. He ran his hand under my hair and past my neck to flip my blonde locks over his arm. Goosebumps formed from where he touched me and down to my wrist as and he re-situated his arm, this time more comfortably.  
"This isn't right." John looked down at me and used his free hand to tap against his lips.  
"What isn't right?" My immediate reaction was slight panic. I expected him to completely change his mind about me just as I had decided to give him a chance.  
"The way we're walking!" I held back a sigh of relief. "It's supposed to be more like this..." John grabbed my hand and wrapped my arm around his back. "That's more like it." He looked down at me to smile, flashing his eyebrows upwards. My cheeks flushed a bit at the feeling of my arm wrapped around him, his hung around my shoulders and the both of us walking in time together. Although it didn't feel awkward. In a weird way, it felt sort of... Right.  
"Sorry, didn't realize I had been walking wrong," I teased.  
"I'll find it in my heart to forgive you." John squeezed my shoulders and pulled me against him for a moment. I nearly lost my balance and giggled a bit. "Through here." He pivoted us into a dirt path leading to a red gate surrounded by trees. When he had taken the sharp turn into the new path, I still hadn't gained my balance and I had to lean against him to avoid falling. John positioned himself to support me and reached his other hand around to wrap around my shoulder until I was steady again.  
"Woah there. It's a little early to be drunk, don't you think?" I wrinkled my nose at him.  
"You were the one who made me lose my balance!" I laughed.  
"You're full of nonsense. The pretty ones are always crazy as hell." He grinned as he looked forward towards the red gate. I smiled at his compliment, disguised in a joke. Why hadn't I gotten to see this softer side of him until now?

"Here it is!" John gestured his hand across the gate before us. I focused on the sign nailed against the fence.  
"Strawberry Field... Well how does _that_ fit in with your hint?" I looked up at him, requesting an answer.  
"Simple! The Salvation Army owns the property and I used to come here every summer when I was a kid for these annual tea party things..." The confidence in John's voice trailed off with his last few words as he mentioned visiting the park as a child and he looked off into the trees.  
"Annual tea parties? How very British of you," I teased. I had a feeling that a joke might be the best response. I was a bit surprised he had chosen to take me somewhere that seemed quite meaningful.  
John turned back to me and laughed.  
"Yes, yes, God save the Queen, crumpets and knickers. Jolly, jolly." John bounced his head back and forth while he accentuated his accent. He sprung over to the gate and swung it wide open. "After you, madam." I gave him a deep curtsy and entered into the park. John came up behind me and put his head on my shoulder.  
"Do you like it?" I smiled as I took in my surroundings. It really was a beautiful park. A large, elegant house stood steady at the end of the path. It was a bit spooky to see such a beautiful structure looking abandoned and lonely, but the bright green, summer grass surrounding it cheered the view, as did the children playing between the trees.  
"I love it…" I breathed. Something about the park seemed so serene and innocent. Perhaps the thing that impressed me most about this place is that John had chosen to bring me here.  
"Good. You haven't even seen the back field yet. Come on." He grabbed my hand again and strode quickly past the house. I could feel the corners of my lips tugging upwards at the sight of his excitement. We left the grand house behind us and walked well into the field. From here I couldn't catch sight of any of the children who had been playing on the front lawn. It was just John and I.  
"Used to play here all the time as a kid." John remarked quickly. He settled down on the grass and stretched his legs out before him. "Come on, then. Sit." John patted the patch of land next to him and he held my hand as I steadied myself down beside him. It wasn't as easy to plop down on the grass if you were wearing a dress…

"There used to be a field out behind my house… before they started building a new neighbourhood. My dad and I used to go catch frogs and sneak them into the kitchen to scare my mother with." There was something about this place made me feel sentimental.  
"Naughty girl," John scolded humorously with a bit of a glint in his eye. "But I used to do the same to Aunt Mimi," He beamed.  
"No wonder she's so uptight. You've been torturing her for who knows how long!" I laughed. John flicked his fingers up and mouthed through some numbers.  
"Thirteen. Thirteen years." Both of us fell a little silent and John nodded to himself. Was now a good time to ask what I had been wondering ever since seeing the family photo that hung in the hallway?  
"John.." He fixed his eyes on me, looking attentive upon hearing me say his name. "Why do you live with your Aunt Mimi?" I paused. This didn't feel right. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked…"  
John observed the field ahead of us in silence for a few moments.  
"It's all right. Just a bit of a tongue full." He took a deep breath and pulled a blade of grass from the ground. His sights stayed focused on it as he picked it apart, piece by piece. "Haven't seen my dad since I was five, really. He just showed up once when my mum had already shacked up with another guy. So he just split. Went to live with my Aunt Mimi – and my Uncle George. Mum was… busy, you know. New family, all that. So I've just been living with them ever since." By the time he had rushed through his story, the blade of grass had fallen against his jeans in small pieces.  
"Oh… I've never heard you mention your Uncle George or your mom -" Before I had the chance to apologize again for being invasive, John ushered out another explanation.  
"Neither of 'em are around anymore. Uncle George passed away when I was fifteen, and my mum last year." Stillness encircled us. Once again, my view of John shifted. With two parents and a steady home, I realized how sheltered I had always been. Never could I imagine how I might have turned out without the steady background I had behind me.  
"Fucking hell. You sure know how to make small talk on a first date." John laughed and lied into the tall grass. My ears pricked up on those two words he had oh so casually uttered. _First date…_  
"This is a date?" God, I sounded like an idiot. The naïve question had escaped my lips before I had time to withhold it. John sat back up quickly and stared at me with a dead-faced expression.  
"What the hell did you think this was? A field trip?" He honestly looked irked until we both cracked up at the key word _field._ John fell back onto the grass, chuckling. I lied beside him, both of us looking up at the blue sky. There were dark clouds in the distance, but I tried to pay no mind to them. Instead I closed my eyes and focused on the warmth of the sun that grazed against me.

"Boy, I must have really blown this if you didn't even think it was bloody date." John chuckled again and I could hear the grass rustle against his hand which moved up towards his forehead.  
"No you didn't. I love it here." My voice was quiet and I felt completely at peace with nature surrounding me in each direction. I heard more rustling beside me. Then I felt John's lips against mine. His hands were planted on either side of my head to support himself, but as I leaned into the kiss, he lowered his body slowly against mine. One hand moved to my waist and the other he slipped under my hair. He lifted my head up from the grass and against his lips. When he pulled away we both took a slow, deep breath. He kept his face close to mine and grinned.  
"You don't know how hard it is to see you lying there, smiling in the sun, and not touch you."  
"Why did you wait so long to kiss me? Why last night?" I blurted out my thought through a whisper. John leaned onto his elbow and backed his head away from me just enough to get a good look at me.  
"Because I didn't want to screw my chances with you. I don't think I could've watched you walking around this town – living _right_ across the hall, knowing I couldn't _have you_. It would have driven me mad." John grinned again and I smiled through blushing cheeks. My eyes darted down to the green grass beside me. It seemed overwhelming to think that someone wanted to be with me. To trade in their free time to stand beside me, to hold my hand. My self-confidence had dipped and waivered in the past, but even now at its steady rate, it seemed hard to believe that John wanted so badly to _'have me'.  
_"Don't look down, love," John begged quietly. It seemed nearly impossible to match his fixed gaze, but I wandered my washed-out blue eyes back into his brown ones. When I had first met him, those same eyes seemed so wicked and taunting, but now they offered nothing but softness and warmth.  
"Does it feel like a date yet?" I bit my lip and nodded slowly without breaking our eye contact. John's eyes darted towards my mouth and I had remembered what he said in the diner just a week before – '_I like it when you do that… it's sexy.'_ So I really shouldn't have been surprised when he buried his lips into mine.

Yes, this felt like a date. The first date I ever had. And it was perfect.


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry this took a while to get up! Busy week. Anyway, here it is. And I've added my ask fm and Tumblr to my profile, so feel free to take advantage of those. ;) I would love to hear from you guys. You could even let me know what you'd like to happen in future chapters, if you want. Thanks again for all the reviews! Enjoy!_

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Since moving to Liverpool, I had become completely different from the Alice Foster I left behind in Montana. It had only been three weeks since leaving Great Falls, but I felt changed. Montana Alice sat in her bedroom, dreaming about things she would never take action on. Wishing she could meet someone new, someone interesting and go somewhere different and exciting. Liverpool brought out a different color in my tapestry. Confidence, adventure and independence. The freedoms a new country offered had made me feel like my true self; a version of myself I hadn't been able to connect with. _It had only been three weeks._

Within those three important weeks I had settled into a new house, gotten my first job and visited a smoky underground club I never would have dared enter before. Not to mention I had experienced my first kiss… my first date. A first date that was everything I could have hoped for. There were no formalities getting in the way. It was just John showing me around Liverpool, holding my hand and looking at me in a way that always made me blush. After lying in the back fields of Strawberry Field for a good long while, John toured me around his hometown, pointing out his favorite locations and recalling memories. I could tell he held back some sentiments, but I was pleased enough for just a few fond recollections. I was astounded at how he softened. The gruff, teasing and careless teddy boy was everyone's first impression and the exterior he wore as knight's armor around his friends. But when his guard went down, he was caring, perceptive and actually… quite romantic.

Throughout our date, he constantly had his arm around me or his hand in mine. A couple of times he would swerve me into an alley to kiss me through my surprised giggles. Being that I didn't have any experience whatsoever with anything involving relationships, I didn't know if his physical forwardness was the norm or not, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it.

The sun had nearly set by the time John began walking me home. I wasn't entirely sure of the time, but I didn't pay any mind to worrying over it. Neither did John. He kept his pace slow and took his precious time getting me back to Mendips. When we did finally reach the front gate, he pulled me towards him, his arms around my waist.

"Did you like your tour?" The corner of John's lips lifted slightly as he looked down at me.  
"I liked the tour guide better," I grinned and John leaned down to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my hand reached up behind his neck, up to his soft, brown hair.  
"Don't go inside." John slid one hand up my back and lifted it towards my cheek.  
"I have to…" I meant to say it more firmly, but it only came out in a whisper.  
"You want to stay," John declared quietly. He was right.  
"It's going to rain," I reasoned.  
"Then we'll get wet." John kissed me again.  
"John…" His name was a near plea. The night had been so perfect; I didn't want it to end.  
"Alice," He retorted with a small grin.  
"I need to work in the morning." I didn't even want to think about leaving this moment behind just to wash dishes and wait on tables, but the logical side of me knew better.  
"Quit your job," John grinned again and started pecking my lips with a quick succession of kisses. I laughed and wrinkled my nose. "You're gonna have to walk backwards," he said, after pulling away with a big smile.  
I laughed softly at his odd request and raised an eyebrow. "Why?"  
"Because I don't want to see you leaving." A playful smirk still rested on his lips, but his eyes were fixed on mine, completely serious.  
"You have to let me go first," I whispered, yet I still didn't make any attempt pull away. John reached up to meet my hands, which were still around his neck, and slowly lowered them down across his chest. He tugged me over by tucking my hands behind his back. Our gaze kept steady until he kissed me again, softly and slowly. I could tell that this was his goodbye.  
"Still need to go inside?" His face was close to mine. It was hard to find any words to respond. My mind was both whirling and emptied at the same time.  
"Yes…" I managed to utter. John frowned his disappointment, but then flashed a devilish grin. He slid my hands down his back and into the back pockets of his jeans. My cheeks flared up with their usual hue of red and I snapped my hands back to my sides with a slight laugh.  
"You're awful." My eyes narrowed at him, but a small smile danced across my lips.  
"I've heard that before," He chuckled. My mind took me back to last night at The Cavern. I forgot that I had said that… my opinion of him had done a complete one-eighty. My small smile turned into a slightly embarrassed one at the memory.  
"Good thing I finally gave you a chance." I gave an over-exaggerated wink and flipped my hair back before caving in to the joke and laughing.  
"Good thing you can't resist me, you mean." John copied my dramatic wink.  
"Goodnight, John," I laughed. As I turned away from him to open the front gate, he cleared his throat. I looked at him expectantly. "Yes?"  
"Have you forgotten already? Gotta walk backwards." He nodded once in a self-assured manner and raised his fingers in a walking motion. I wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding or not. I straightened my posture, unlatched the gate and made a point of turning on my heel to face him.  
"Alright then." I took slow steps backwards, slightly wobbly, but I kept my composure. John's amused grin broke into a laugh when he saw how I teetered back and forth on the unfamiliar path. I could have held my balance just fine had I been walking backwards to my house in Montana, but this walkway was still a bit foreign to me.  
"You're going to fall over," remarked John. He rested his elbow on the front gate and his chin in his hand as he watched me.  
"No I'm not," I declared with pride. Actually, I wasn't sure if I could make it to the door without tumbling onto the grass, but I was determined to prove John wrong. I continued to take slow steps backwards until my heel hit the front stop leading to the entrance.  
"Ha! Told you!" I pointed at John with a satisfied smirk. He stood up straight and clapped with a regal expression as I took a deep bow.  
"You're marvelous, darling, absolutely marvelous," John faked a posh Londoner accent then rested his crossed arms back onto the gate.

"Aren't you coming inside? It's late… I think." The sky overhead was getting quite dark, but I still had no clue what time it was.  
"Nah. I've got stuff to do. People to see." John lit up a cigarette with a mysterious twinkle in his eye. In the short while I had known him, I figured out quickly that he loved playing obscure games.  
"And by that you mean go to the pub with your friends?" I challenged. John just winked and pointed his cigarette at me. "Have fun being a lone wolf then," I laughed. He grinned, looked up to the moon that was rising in the sky, and howled loudly. I giggled, being too amused to shush him.

"Goodnight." It came out in nearly a whisper. My giggles had faded to a slight smile. I didn't want to go inside. The way I was acting was silly and nonsensical, I knew it. Back in Montana, Dee and I would always crack jokes about cheesy couples who displayed their affections publicly, but here I was, standing outside the house just to keep looking at John. My head knew better, but my heart didn't.  
John returned my smile and I turned away to walk into the roofed entry. As my hand reached for the door knob to go inside, I heard a few quick footsteps behind me. I whirled around to see John leap up the last step and towards me. My whole face lit up. One final goodnight kiss.

My mouth was still curved upwards in a smile when he kissed me again, both of us giggled against each other for a moment before fitting our lips together. My first few kisses with John had been charged with passion, but tainted with a sort of sexual desire, but this kiss was meaningful and felt innocent. He moved carefully and gently around me. His forehead rested against mine after I pulled away from him. It was dark within the small entry; I could only see the glint in his eyes and the whiteness of his grin.  
"Goodnight." With that, John opened the front door for me and gave a slight bow before disappearing behind the piece of oak and back into the night.

I felt as though I might fall over, standing in that entrance hall. How long would I have stayed out there if John hadn't ushered me inside? Too long, probably. My blank face allowed a half-smile as I thought of how he hadn't wanted me to leave, yet he was the one to finally end the night, knowing I had to work in the morning. Everything felt like a dream, too surreal and too good to be true. Half of my mind was overly giddy and the other half was scolding me for being so nitwitted. I paid no mind to the cynical half and glided past the stairs and into my room with an airy expression. When I closed the door behind me, I flopped onto my bed with a big grin.

"Alice Foster, you lying monster!"  
My heart jumped and so did I. When I whipped my sights towards the sound of the voice, my eyes met Dee's who had a smirk on her face, but accusatory, surprised eyes.  
"Oh my _god_, Dee! You scared me!" I hadn't even gotten the chance to be worried over her rhyming accusation.  
"Good! You deserve it!" Even though Dee's words were harsh, her face was lit up with… I wasn't sure what it was, really, but it put me at ease… I think.  
"What did I even do…?" My voice trailed off as I remembered my failure to mention the situation with John. "Oh… How did you figure out?"  
"Ugh! Now you get it. I saw you two out the window stuck to each other like glue," Dee rolled her eyes.  
"Dee, I'm sorry-" Guilt had made me rigid and gleamed through my eyes.  
"It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen, I hate you!" Dee interrupted with a lighthearted laugh and threw her pillow at me. The pillow rebounded off of my dumbfounded face and into my lap. My only defense against it was a vacant blink.  
"Wait - what?" For some reason I had the same amused demeanor as she did, but I was still wildly confused.  
"Oh, come on. You think I'd get mad at you for keeping this from me? Sure, it ticked me off a bit, but really! You finally gave him a chance! And you looked so happy, oh my god!" Dee's grin turned into giggles and she rushed over to hug me tightly before fell back on my bed from cracking up. She insisted I spend the next hour telling her all about this first kiss and the date. The excitement I had when I first walked through the door started to fade from staying up late and by the time I finished filling in Dee on the details, I was more than ready to head to bed.

"Now you can't possibly tell me that this thing with John isn't an adventure." I heard Dee whisper through the dark room after turning off the light.  
"I guess it is…"  
"It's too dark to see, but I know you're smiling right now."

Dee was right. I fell asleep with a smile on my face and a tingle in my toes. Liverpool was giving me the adventure I hoped for.


	17. Chapter 17

_I had to sit through a long drive today so I typed up another chapter for you all. Look at me being all consistent. Aren't ya proud. Read, **review**, and enjoy, lovelies. (:_

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July was turning out to be a great month so far. Tomorrow was Independence Day and Dee and I were scheming a way to celebrate. Visiting The Cavern was among the toss up of ideas, but we wanted a plan that would truly bring our American heritage in through the port of Liverpool.  
After my date with John I hardly got any sleep before going in for my morning shift at the diner. Sherry had a gift for reading people like an open book which didn't work in my favor when I would get distracted by memories of last night. I got quite a few pokes in the rib from Sherry who seemed to know exactly the predicament I was in. I tried to focus on my work, but I'd never imagined the powerful affect a boy could have on me. I always anticipated being one of those girls who remained unaffected, even after getting involved with someone, but my past-self had been wrong about many things.  
No one ever told me that, for no reason, my hands would get clammy and my heart would skip. Whenever I thought of him I either felt like banging my head against a wall or dancing around the kitchen. Idiot was an understatement, but I had never been so happy to be a fool.

Yet in the back of my mind I knew that my relationship with John, or whatever it was, was moving fast. There was still so much I hadn't learned about him and it was nerve-wracking jumping into romance with what could really be considered a stranger. But as soon as I met him it seemed as if we'd known each other for years; as if we were old classmates or neighbors. I couldn't make sense of it. I couldn't make sense out of anything involving John. Honestly, I had given up trying to analyze our relationship because it drove me too crazy. Ever since our first kiss I either felt giddy as hell or frustrated out of my mind. And for some reason I loved it all.

When my shift was over I took the bus to the Menlove Avenue neighborhood. Walking up the entry path to Mendips, I noticed the US flag had been plucked from the front garden. I couldn't help but giggle at the image of Mrs. Smith yanking it out of the dirt, muttering about shenanigans. Too bad it didn't last to July Fourth. If my assumptions about my landlord had been right so far, Dee and I's flag was lying in the trash right now.

My feet kindly reminded me how sore they were as I entered the house. With a groan I slipped off my sneakers and hung them from my fingertips. It felt good to have my toes free from the pinch of footwear as I trudged up the staircase. When I walked into the hallway I paused to glance between the door leading to my bedroom and the door leading to John's bedroom... I had never been in his room. I was curious, but I didn't want to go knocking on his door to, asking to look around on sit on his _bed_. No, I didn't even want to imagine what John might think. But maybe if I just said hello and peered over his shoulder...

I tip-toed over to John's door and rapped against it. It was silent. I leaned my ear up against the door to try and hear if there was any movement.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Smith's voice sent me leaping from John's door to face her disapproving presence of tightened eyes and pursed lips.  
"Oh well, I was just... going to... say hello," I stuttered. _Ugh, I'm an idiot._ From what I knew, Mrs. Smith didn't even know I had met John and now she had caught me hung up against her nephew's bedroom.  
"John is out," she stated slowly. Folded linen was clutched between her slender fingers and her head was cocked slightly at me. Her eyes were blank but her lips stayed pursed.  
"Oh. Well then. I'll just..." I muttered through my words as I took big steps backwards until my heels hit my bedroom door. With an awkward, quick smile, my hand flew to the doorknob and I ushered myself into the room. My shoes were slung into a corner and my face quickly found my pillow. This pillow must be nearly bursting with my sighs and groans by now.

It was another hour before Dee returned from work. I had written my parents in my free time. Hearing about my family back home always made my stomach churn. It was unnatural for me to be so far away from Montana, I hardly even traveled before moving here. I had only been out of the country once when we took a family vacation up to British Columbia, up west in Canada and even with my parents company, eleven year-old me felt uneasy. Seventeen year-old me in Liverpool wasn't much different.

I was thankful for the distraction from being homesick when Dee finally glided in through our door.  
"Dee!" I turned in my desk chair to face her with a horrified expression.  
"What?" She looked confused, but she spoke slowly in a low, teasing voice.  
"Mrs. Smith caught me knocking on John's door." I lowered my voice to a whisper. My words slithered past my teeth, trying to implement in my friend just how horrible the encounter had been. Dee just laughed and grabbed a hanger from the closet to hang her jacket on.  
"So?"  
"_So_," I breathed. "She doesn't even know that I've talked to John, nonetheless... the other stuff." I nodded my head off to the side suggestively.  
"The other stuff?" Dee laughed again. "Just say you kissed him!"  
"Shh!" My eyes widened at her loud voice. "She's going to hear you. Oh god, oh god." I got up from my chair to flop against my bed.  
"Wow, she really scares you doesn't she?"  
"Glad you're getting such a kick out of this. Dee, I am dating her nephew. The nephew she's raised for the major part of his life. I have a feeling I don't live up to her standards." Dee was silent so I lifted my head up towards her. Her lips were pressed against each other as if she was holding back another laugh.  
"What?" I asked, exasperated.  
"That's the first time you said you were dating John," Dee twinkled through a grin. Without my permission, my lips stretched into a smile, but I forced a groan to combat it.  
"Well I didn't mean to... I don't even know if we are. We've only gone on one date, you know." I can't say I wouldn't be pleased to confirm a relationship, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions just to be let down and embarrassed.  
"Yeah, one date that melted the two of you into cheesy little love puddles." I laughed as Dee's metaphor and rolled me eyes.  
"Love puddles?" We both burst out laughing.

We spent the rest of the evening chatting about our nasty and nice customers and stepping out to deliver our letters to home. I had been able to remember the location of the mailboxes ever since John showed me. I remembered because I refused to go through another ordeal like the one I believed to be so awful, but at least it helped me remember.

The hall clock chimed ten when I came back into our room after preparing for bed in the washroom. Our bedroom was silent as I brushed through my long hair. Dee was reading a section of the local paper quietly at the desk.  
Then a pebble bounced off the glass, making Dee jump with a surprised gasp.  
I sprinted over to the desk to see what had caused the rock flinging. Dee stretched across the desk to budge the window open and peer outside.  
"Oh, hello," a familiar voice rang up from the root of the tree that stood right below our window. I tried to get a glimpse outside, but Dee nudged me back.  
"What are you doing?" Dee asked casually while she cupped her chin in her hand.  
"Nice night gown," I heard the deep voice comment. I could hear the smirk in John's voice.  
"Thank you, but you still didn't ask my question." Dee knew exactly how to keep up with him.  
"Oh, didn't I? My apologies, my mind's been whirling all day." I grinned at his response.  
"Maybe you should lie down before you faint. Don't be sensitive about it now, there are more delicate men out there than you think." I stifled my giggle and nudged Dee's foot with mine. She flashed me a satisfied smirk and turned back to the window.  
"If I lie down will you send someone to lie with me?" John's voice lost its loud boom with the suggestive question.  
"Probably not," Dee blinked blankly at him, but one corner of her mouth was tugged upwards.  
"I'll just scale the wall then," the voice declared.  
"No you won't."  
"Oh?" A few seconds passed in silence then I heard a clatter against the wall. With a laugh, I stretched over to the window, nudging Dee away with my shoulder.  
"_John!_" I meant to sound more disapproving, but I started to laugh harder at the sight of him climbing a tiny step ladder with a confounded expression.  
"There she is!" John beamed. "I like your friend." I looked over to Dee who had retreated to her bed and had a book in her lap.  
"He should," she commented without breaking the focus on her book. How had these two not formally met until now? Their banter was proving to be pretty fun to witness.  
"What are you doing outside?" I queried.  
"I felt like re-enacting Romeo and Juliet," he grinned. "But soft... You know Romeo was probably hard when he said that. He just wanted to bang Juliet, you know."  
"How much have you had to drink?" I asked with a soft laugh. My level of knowledge regarding alcohol was very low, but I had seen John buzzed before.  
He squinted his eyes at me and pinched his fingers together a smidgen.  
"What are my favorite Americans doing tomorrow, huh? Gotta celebrate your stars and stripes, dearie."  
"We don't know yet. It's hard to celebrate when you're far from home in a different country. What do you do to celebrate?"  
"I drink."  
"We're not going to get sloshed to celebrate Independence Day, thank you." I heard Dee scoff and we made eye contact to roll our eyes in unison.  
"Alright then. How about this? You two meet me at Strawberry Field and we'll have a blowout. Fireworks and all that." John waved his hands around to give a showy presentation of his idea. I was sold on the proposal, but I glanced towards Dee to get an approving nod.  
"Sounds like fun," I smiled.  
"Great! Alright. I'll invite the boys. Strawberry Field... Nine o' clock. Don't forget." John staggered down from his step ladder and wagged his finger at me.  
"I'll remember if you can," I laughed. Hopefully he wouldn't forget his promise in the morning.  
"I will!" He bellowed. "Now go to bed, eh? Big day tomorrow." I matched the big grin that he flashed across his face.  
"All right, all right. Can you find your way inside without passing out on the lawn?" I teased.  
"Good god, I can handle my liquor. A little more credit, please." John spread his hands up in front of him and pretended to be offended.  
"_Touchy_. Goodnight then." I gave him a small wave and a big smile.  
"Goodnight, angel." He waivered a bit as he looked up at me. I could hear Dee scoff again from her bed. I laughed at John's state from both amusement and slight concern. With another wave, I glided the window shut and sat on the desk chair.

"Please don't tell me you disapprove of John," I stared at Dee with pleading in my eyes and my hands clasped together. If she didn't like John then that could possibly change my view of him yet again, but this time not for the better.  
"I don't disapprove!" She laughed. "Of course I'm not going to be impressed by drunken John, but you've told me enough about him that I'm not going to let that be my first impression. Anyway, for being drunk he still managed to make a plan for tomorrow when we, sober, couldn't."  
"Ha! Good point. Tomorrow should be fun," I nodded and headed over to my bed. Dee closed her book, set it down on her night stand and flicked the light switch off. We lied in the darkness for a few minutes before we both giggled upon hearing John loudly stamp up the stairs and stumble into his room.

_Oh, John. What am I going to do with you?_


	18. Chapter 18

_Bah. It's been a roller coaster of a month so I apologize for the time gaps between chapters. This chapter is reaallyy long. After reading other fanfics on here, I realized how long my chapters were. :P What do you guys think? Are they too long? I have my ask fm link in my description so please use that whenever you'd like and give me suggestions and opinions! Another question for you all before I shut up (haha) - I've been toying with the idea of starting a Paul fanfic, starting in 1964. Would any of you be interested in checking that out? Alright! I'm done! Please, please, please give me your opinions/suggestions. And thank you so much for reviewing!  
_

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Independence Day, 1959, began with Dee loudly humming our national anthem in my ear until I woke up. With a tired groan, I rolled over on my side to squint at her through the morning light.  
"Good morning, my fellow American!" she chirped.  
"Good morning to you too, Uncle Sam," I laughed and threw my covers back. A fresh breeze was spiraling in from the open window and I gladly took a deep breath of it. "What time is it?" I yawned.  
"Quarter after eight."  
The diner opened for the day at nine o' clock and I had to be there for my shift at the same time – which only left me a little over half an hour to get ready and rush to the bus stop. I hurried around the room, madly grabbing my uniform and tugging a brush through my hair. After peeping my head into our bedroom to say a quick goodbye to Dee, I started my race towards the bus while pulling my hair into a sloppy ponytail. Thankfully, the bus rolled around a few seconds after I had showed up and I got to the diner five minutes before opening; even if I did looked like a mess.  
"Woo! Looks like time tried to pick a fight with you this mornin'!" Sherry was behind the front counter, clicking her long nails against the pale yellow tile. I grinned, a bit embarrassed, and tried to re-style my loose ponytail.  
"I accidentally slept in. I couldn't sleep much last night." The night before hadn't offered much rest either. John had been keeping me up – or rather thoughts of him. All I could think about was that first kiss, that first date and what was to come… It was ridiculous, but no amount of logic stopped the same one-track thoughts from returning.  
"Let me help you with that, honey. You're just going to rip out all your pretty hair clawing at it like that." Sherry walked over from behind the counter to take the hair band from my hand. With a sigh of resignation, I let her comb my hair back with her gentle fingers. It reminded me of my elementary school days… how my mother used to sit me on her bed and get me looking presentable for the day ahead. "So what's been keeping you up, hm? Same thing that's got you staring off into space when you're doing the dishes, I think." Sherry couldn't see my blushing cheeks from her standpoint, but I could feel the warmth rush up to my face.  
"Well…" I was hesitant to say anything. The only person I had talked to about John was my best friend who I had known for over a decade. Sherry was a comforting, wise woman, but I was afraid of sounding immature and ditzy. What could I even say? 'It's a boy…'? I hardly wanted to admit that it was just a boy who was making me act so differently.  
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but I can't recall anyone acting this way over fish grease on a porcelain plate. Unless that's what you go and day dream about in the kitchen," Sherry chuckled and I laughed softly with her.  
"No, not that. It's..." I scoffed in frustration.  
"A boy?" Sherry guessed casually. I groaned quietly as she finished off tying my hair back in a neat, firm ponytail.  
"Yes."  
"I could tell," she sighed. "Don't go beating yourself up about how your mind is turning to putty. That's what the real special ones do to ya." Sherry winked and gave me a quick side hug. Words couldn't express how comforting her presence was in the physical absence of my own mother. The two women had different styles of reassurance, but reassurance nonetheless was calming. The bell ringing over the door caught our attention and, with the entrance of a hungry-looking man, my work day began and continued for the next eight hours.

It had been a relatively slow day which surprised me. I imagined more business on a holiday, but here in Britain it was just another ordinary Wednesday. The diner was still busy enough to keep Sherry from asking which particular boy had me "all up in a tizzy", as she would say; which was fortunate because I wasn't very keen on trying to explain a boy I hardly understood myself.

My regular shifts were eight to four, but I noticed the new schedule had me on my first evening shift tomorrow. The evening shift meant I could stay up late tonight at Strawberry Field, but it also meant my first shift working without Sherry. I trusted her mentoring abilities, but I wasn't entirely sure I trusted myself enough to not make a bunch of stupid mistakes. Either way, it was tomorrow's problem and I was going to enjoy my first Independence Day living away from home. Ironically enough the plans for tonight were promising to be much more enjoyable than previous Fourth of July celebrations. Back in Montana, Dee and I would have to sit through a backyard party thrown by my parents for all their socialite friends and stuffy business partners. A day full of fake smiles and conservative cotton dresses was never captured as a good memory. Although when we were nearly at our wit's end with the sweltering heat and insufferable boredom, Dee's father would come round and slip us firecrackers and a bit of money for cold Coca-Cola's - a method that entertained us from childhood and into our teenage years.

Dee started, and ended, work an hour after I did so I rode the bus back to Mendips on my own and headed into our empty room. As I changed and got ready for tonight's event I heard Benjamin and Mrs. Smith spark up conversation in the dining room below. The past couple of days I hadn't seen much of either of them so I thought I had better head downstairs and be sociable. Locking myself away in my room wouldn't give either of them a good impression and I didn't want to misrepresent myself to the people I had to live with for the next year or two.  
I skipped down the stairs in quite a good mood and crept into the dining room slowly at first, then upon being noticed, sped in with a friendly smile.  
"Good evening, Alice. Haven't seen much of you lately," Benjamin offered the same friendly smile as I did – except my friendly smile was forced… so I assumed his was also. Ever since hearing about his bad reputation from Paul, I had never looked at him the same way. In fact, Benjamin quite annoyed me.  
"Oh yeah-yes," I corrected. I didn't want another scenario where Mrs. Smith vaguely jabbed at my 'slang-ridden' vocabulary. "I've been pretty busy. Working and all that."  
"You work at that small diner, don't you?" Benjamin queried.  
"Yeah-yes." I dared a quick, nervous glance towards Mrs. Smith who had her sights set on her tea. "Gizmo's is the name."  
"Right. Gizmo's. That place sure has a lot of… rustic charm," he smiled again, this time even more aggravating than the last. Rustic charm? I had spent enough time around prissy, high-class circles to know that was a dig. I stayed silent in response. I didn't trust myself to open my mouth in fear that something less than respectful would blurt out.  
"Help yourself to some tea, if you please." Mrs. Smith looked up from her teacup and glanced towards the teapot and cups that were neatly laid out on an old silver platter.  
"Oh, thank you." It felt odd to thank her for the offer being that I lived here, but one could never be too careful with Mary 'Mimi' Smith. I did, indeed, help myself to a cup of tea and I sat down across from Ben at the long table.  
For nearly an hour all three of us talked pleasantly about boring topics such as school, work and weather. Finally, the front door swung open and Dee, not knowing I was in the dining room, sprung upstairs. I excused myself and followed her up. When I opened the door to our bedroom, she was already pulling clothes from her closet.  
"How was work?" I asked and flopped into the desk chair.  
"Boring. Nothing but old ladies and uptight business men today. I like it when the factory workers come in. You should hear them talk!" She laughed. "They have pretty nasty tongues on them, but they always have great stories." There was a bit of a sparkle in her eye as she talked of the working-class, slightly impoverished citizens of Liverpool. Anyone interesting was immediately approved through Dee's eyes.  
"Leave it to you to idolize the grungy men of Liverpool," I laughed.  
"I do not idolize them. I just respect their hard work," she stated, matter-of-fact.  
"Guess who I was just talking to?" I changed the subject as Dee picked out a dress from the heap of clothes draped over her dresser.  
"Who?"  
"Ben and Mrs. Smith. For the past hour." My hands stretched my face back as I explained the long, awkward visit I just had. "It seemed so tense. Probably didn't seem that way to either of them, but it was so uncomfortable to sit there and force conversation. Maybe I should stay in my room more often," I finished off my story,  
"Well I certainly expect you to be waiting for me when I get back from work." Dee spoke through a commanding, manly voice before returning to her usual giggle. We chatted and readied ourselves for the night for a couple of hours, taking our time and allowing distractions to consume time. Even by lengthening our prep time, we still had a couple hours to spare. Dee grabbed some books from downstairs and we swapped reading materials. Novels still lined the walls of my old bedroom back home and had always been a wonderful world to escape to. Every book read here in Liverpool excited me further for my creative writing classes that began this September – at the same school as John attended. I was both curious and nervous towards how that would all work out.

After supper and some quality reading time, it was finally time to head out and towards our destination. We slipped our shoes on at the front door and squeezed out the doorway quickly and quietly before Mrs. Smith could question our plans for tonight. I wasn't prepared to admit to all the time I had been spending with John so sneaking around was the only cowardice option left.  
Strawberry Field wasn't too awfully far from Mendips so Dee and I traveled by foot until we reached the now-familiar red gates that John had shown me just a day earlier. It was hard not to blush at the sight of the park as memories flooded in from our first date. My intro to daydreaming was interrupted by the squeak of the gate as Dee swung it open, announcing our arrival. We tip-toed in, moving carefully as it was getting dark and visibility wasn't exactly 20/20.  
"It's quiet…" Dee remarked. Indeed, there were no signs of John or any of his friends…  
"Maybe he forgot." My shoulders dropped even though my voice stayed unaffected.  
"Most likely," I heard a voice whisper from a tree. It was followed by some stifled giggles and leaves rustling.  
"Who's up there?" Dee hollered up to the tree which either had an occupant or a voice of its own. With a defeated sigh, Paul leaped down from a branch with an unsteady, loud landing.  
"Dammit, Paul." John groaned and crawled out of the tree behind me. George then swung down off the branches from the tree that Paul had been in.  
"How long were the three of you up there?" I laughed.  
"Ever since you started heading down the street," Paul answered.  
"They had me on look-out," George grinned.  
"He ran back here like a wild ape, shouting at us to take our positions. I'm surprised you didn't hear him." John spoke again from behind me. Before I could turn to look at him, he snuck up and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder as he had done yesterday in the very same park. The three spectators in front of us took notice and I willed myself against blushing.  
"Hey, where's-" George was interrupted from a swift swoosh from the tree John had been hiding in and I jumped within John's arms. He tugged me towards him tighter and laughed at my fright.  
"Good timing, Pete." John let go of his hold on me to help his blond friend off the grass.  
"Didn't have much of a choice. This kid was about to blow my cover." Pete pointed his thumb over his shoulder, towards George who awkwardly grinned with embarrassment. John turned towards me and gestured between his friend, Dee, and I.  
"Pete, this is the Alice and Dee I told ya about. Girls, this is Pete Shotton. He's an asshole and a great guy." John slapped his hand over his shoulder with a grin and Pete mirrored his smirk.  
"I could say the same 'bout you, John. Except for that last part." Pete quickly ducked out of the way of John's playful smack with a loud laugh.  
Upon noticing that George and Paul were already walking off into the trees, John nudged Pete's shoulder.  
"Let's head over to the wagon." The two boys headed after the others and Dee and I followed behind.  
A glowing lantern became visible, sitting in a rusted red wagon with a floral bed sheet draped over the side. Pete ran forwards and grabbed a handful of the sheet, waiting until all had gathered around to dramatically whip it off. The reveal was a portable record player hooked up to a small speaker. A couple of .45's laid next to it.  
"Ta-da!" Pete waved his hands with an enthusiastic smile.  
"On with the show, Shotton. Put on the records," John prompted impatiently.  
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Lennon," Pete shot back with a grin. John ignored him and called George over to whisper something. Whatever it was that John said it had set the young boy running off to where we had met up.  
"Where's he going?" I asked John, who had stepped back beside me.  
"You'll see." John kept his sights on the record player until Pete dropped the needle. Elvis' rough voice ripped through the silent night. Even though the small speaker muffled the sound, _Hound Dog_ still got everyone's toes tapping. I noticed Dee was lip synching the lyrics with a droopy-lip Elvis impersonation which Pete noticed and laughed at. Dee grinned and they began talking about the records that had been brought along in the wagon.

Meanwhile, John kept looking over his shoulder for George's return.  
"You look like a little boy on Christmas Eve waiting to open his presents," I laughed.  
"It isn't Christmas, but there _are_ a few presents I'd like to open." John smirked, making eye contact for a quick second before glancing behind him again. "I was hoping you were going to wear that dress again... The one you wore when we met, you know the one." I sure did. Our first meeting was the bane of my existence for a couple of days.  
"Why did you want me to wear that one?" I laughed a bit, caught off guard by his reference.  
"Because I hear it's gonna rain tonight." There was the infamous Lennon grin. It could either annoy the hell out of you or melt you down to your toes. I had already spent my time doing the former and I had caved in to falling for little looks such as this one. I would have loved to reply with a sarcastic joke, but John had the tendency of catching me off guard and leaving me with little words to say. I rolled my eyes, but my lips were curved upwards. John's grin widened again and he leaned in for a kiss...

That's when George made his re-appearance.

"I got the box!" George held the retrieved cardboard box over his head and caught the attention of all those around him.  
"We'll save this for later," John whispered in my ear. A shiver quickly ran up my spine. He leaned back and switched his focus back to those around us. "Set it over there." John pointed towards an open portion of the field and all the boys gathered round. It looked a bit like a sacred ritual the way they all peered into that mysterious box with wonder and excitement.

"What's in there?" Dee had trotted towards my side to ask the same question I had been wondering.  
"No idea." I shook my head.  
"I present to you!" John lifted an item from the box and held it above his head. "The... what the hell does that say? I can't read in the fucking dark..." George leaned over to examine the item as Dee and I giggled.  
"Spark Rocket," George muttered.  
"Right," John said quietly. Then returning to his booming voice he continued, "I present to you, the Spark Rocket!"  
'The Spark Rocket' finally caught a glimpse of the moonlight and I noticed it was a sizeable firework.  
"Wait, you actually got fireworks?" Dee asked the question that had my eyebrow raised in surprise and skepticism.  
"That's what I promised, ain't it?" John enunciated his last two words sharply and quickly with a comical voice.  
"On with the show, Lennon," Pete smirked.  
"Shut up, Pete, I'm getting there."  
"Right. I should have guessed it takes you awhile to get going." Pete grinned again as John's same humor immediately understood the teasing innuendo.  
"Careful now. Or else this firework won't be the only thing exploding tonight," John jeered.  
"That is, if you can get it to explode…" Before John could reply to Pete's second taunt, Paul stepped forward,  
"Just light the bloody thing already!"  
"Alright, alright!" John pulled a lighter from his pocket and carefully settled the firework on the grass before lighting the wick. All three boys ran back quickly as it began to spark, John ran over to stand beside me. We waited with baited breath for the rocket to spark into the sky, but when the wick ran to its end, there was nothing but further silence.  
I looked out of the corner of my eye to see John looking disappointed and confused. He and Pete went over to inspect the failed rocket attempt and George brought forth another one. This time it was lit without the dramatic show and the wick was lit within seconds. The boys ran back to their spectator positions and watched excitedly. Finally, the firework burst upwards above the trees. It was only a few feet higher than the leaves, but its vivid color was quite the sight. I grinned in the colored light and excitedly grabbed John's arm. When I looked to see if he was as excited as I was, I saw that he hadn't been watching the fireworks at all. John was already looking straight at me when I met his gaze. Instantly, I was pulled into the moment. It seemed that all our surroundings were surreal and where we stood was the only clear focal point. My grip on his arm loosened until my hands were lightly hung from the crook of his elbow.

John wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a soft kiss. Seconds after his lips touched mine, Dee laughed through a sudden shriek. I quickly pulled away and snapped my head over to her to see what the matter was when I realized I already knew. The grey clouds had begun to release all their captured rain onto Liverpool. The light raindrops had gone completely unnoticed as I was a bit…occupied, but the rain began to pour down quickly and heavily. John grabbed my hand and rushed me along to a large tree which served as a bit of shelter from the fat drops of rain. I couldn't help but laugh through the chill on my bare skin and the sudden surprise of being soaked. A bit of precipitation found its way through the full leaves of the tree, but, for the most part, we had found adequate shelter.

As I blinked away the rain from my eyes, I noticed John, again, had his mind elsewhere. When my eyes met his, a quick smile flashed across his face, but he strode over with a focused expression and forced his lips down on mine. John's arms wrapped around my waist, gently at first before he lifted me up, far up enough that my toes grazed against the long grass as he carried me towards the trunk of the tree. My back gently slid against the solid bark and John's kiss grew more intense. Deep breaths were filled with the scent of rain and small smiles flashed like lightning between each kiss. I felt electrified from my toes all the way up to my burning ears. My hands rested against John's warm neck and his arms slid up my back. I could feel his fingers brush against my wet dress and up towards my neck. Our company was completely forgotten in this moment, as was the rest of the world. Never until this moment could I understand the way people explained romance as feeling as though 'you were the only two people in the world'. John's body was tight against mine and my ears continued to feel hotter as I thought of where this might be leading. I wasn't ready to take the steps John was so eager to climb, but my entire body felt like jelly. I couldn't push him away. I didn't _want_ to push him away.

A shiver gently shook my body from either the chilly rain or John's precise passions. I wasn't sure which it was. John softened and looked at me with distracted concern.  
"Are you cold?" He breathed. I wanted to deny it, but another shiver rattled up my spine. We both grinned. "Better get you home…" John said quietly, looking down at his shoes. I could tell neither of us wanted to move an inch.  
"It _is_ getting late…" I reasoned. My teeth chattered a bit through my words.  
"Come on." John stripped off his leather jacket and held it out for me. "Take it," he said, trying to act indifferently. I wondered if John's gentle side ever took him by surprise. He always seemed to brush it off, but I had caught glimpses of a man much different than what he displayed.  
"Thank you," I smiled warmly at him, thankful for the gesture and warmth. I slipped the heavy jacket over my shoulders and slid my arms through. The interior was warm and smelled of John. Some of the scents weren't pleasant such as alcohol and cigarettes, but, for some reason, the overall effect made me smile.

"You look good in that. I'd pay good money to see you all suited up in leather." Our intimate moment glided back into our usual kind of conversations where John was crude and I was sarcastic.  
"No amount of money in the world would get me into tight leather."  
"Well I have a bit more to offer than plain old money." John quirked his eyebrows and slung his arm around my shoulder, making a point to move my hair out of the way.  
"Kisses won't get me into leather either," I combatted.  
"Oh, naïve little Alice," he chuckled. "I wasn't talking about kisses." There went those damn cheeks again, blushing as always. Naïve was my middle name of late. Moving away from home had only opened my eyes to how much I had missed or never known.  
"Oh, shut it," I pouted, but upon making eye contact with John, I wrinkled my nose and smiled. He just shook his head with a genuine smile and squeezed me closer. There was something about his smile that made me grin even bigger.

"Ready to face the rain, Miss Foster?" He shouted.  
I yelled back with a salute, "Aye-aye, captain!"  
With my word, John rushed us forwards towards the wagon we had just split from. I inhaled sharply at the return of the cold rain and pushed my wet hair out of my face.  
"Come on out, wild mountain people of the North…" John yelled out, scanning for any sign of our party. Pete and Dee jogged over quickly, their shoulders hunched up against the rain. Pete had the record player in his jacket and Dee was clutching the records against her chest.  
"Where's George?" Dee asked. All three of us looked around. George walked forwards at a normal pace, looking much drier than the rest of us.  
"Why the hell aren't you wet?" Pete scoffed.  
"I found a dry place," he stated. Dee and I made eye contact and held back our laughter. George was a mystery, to be sure.  
"John, get the wagon." Pete pointed towards the wagon which had pooled with water and soaked the bed sheet right through. John did as told, too cold to remark with a joke. I noticed goose bumps along his arms and began to feel guilty about having his coat. I walked over next to him as he started pulling the wagon along the un-mown grass.  
"You're cold," I frowned. John chuckled and squinted at me through the rain.  
"I can take it."  
"Oh, so manly," I sighed and grazed my hand across my forehead. John laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close towards him as we walked.  
"You know what they say, though…"  
"Hm?"  
"It takes a woman to make a man," John grinned and we both laughed.  
"Get a room!" Pete shouted from behind us. I blushed as I realized John and I were in the front of the group and all those behind us were audience to our conversation.  
"Gladly," John said blankly. That didn't help my flushed cheeks.  
"Hey – where's Paul?" George questioned. Both John and I stopped to look at him. Where _was_ Paul?  
"_Paul!_" John shouted.  
"Over here!" A voice shouted from ahead.  
"He's already at the bloody gates!" John scoffed. We all walked briskly towards the gates where Paul was leaning up against the stone wall, partially sheltered by a tree, but looking wetter than the rest of us.  
"I'm surprised this piggy didn't cry _"Wee wee wee, all the home'_" John smirked.  
"Probably should have left you all here! Took you long enough."  
"Well now you're holding us up. Get the gate, McCartney," John ordered. Paul pushed himself up from the wall and strolled over to open the red gate with a dramatic gesture.  
"After you madam," he smirked at John. He sneered and pushed me forwards.  
"Have a problem with being a madam, John?" I giggled. He sneered and faked a hearty "Ha-ha!"  
"Keep it up and I'll make _you_ pull the wagon." I laughed at his bluff and linked my arm in his at which John straightened his back and looked pleased. I chuckled softly, looking down at my feet. Seeing him react to my touch gave me a bad case of butterflies.

We all chatted while we each made our way to our respective homes. Paul and George split from us to head in a different direction and, eventually, so did Pete, although not before lending his records to Dee with a big smile.  
The rain was sparse by the time we got to Mendips, but the three of us were still soaked.  
"How was your Fourth of July, girls?" John laughed.  
"A sensation of precipitation." I fluttered my eyes and grinned.  
"Wish it could have lasted a bit longer," added Dee.  
"Don't you worry. There'll be much more time for shenanigans," John smirked. "And more time for you and Pete to gawk over each other."  
It had been pretty obvious that Pete and Dee held some level of interest for each other, but I found my mouth agape when John so forwardly mentioned it. I playfully smacked him on the shoulder and he laughed. Instead of retaliating with a tease, he grabbed my hand and pressed his thumb into my palm.  
Dee was unfazed by John's remark and laughed at him. "Like _you_ should be talking! You were doing more that gawking tonight." _Stupid cheeks, stupid cheeks…  
_"Aw, look, you've turned her all red!" John nudged me with his shoulder and chuckled. Dee rolled her eyes, but I could hear her giggle to herself.  
"We should get inside, Alice," Dee frowned. She had observed how happy I could be when I was with John and I could tell she didn't want to pull me away, but I desperately needed a change of clothes. I sighed and nodded. John squeezed my hand and I looked up at him, apologetically.  
"We really should… You still look cold."  
"Alright," John exhaled. "After you." He gestured us towards the door. Dee walked towards the door and I followed, but John's hand was still in mine and he pulled me back to peck me on the lips. Only then did he feel satisfied to let go and, this time, he actually came in the house with me.

Unfortunately, it was a very bad time to do so.

Mrs. Smith was in the hallway, looking very displeased.


	19. Chapter 19

Mrs. Smith was a sight to behold. Her shoes were clicked together and she stood up straight, shoulders back and chin up. Blank brown eyes held a gaze, followed down her long nose and straight at the trio who had whirled in through her door. Small puddles formed at our feet and I felt my toes squirm in her glare. The most intimidating thing of all was how expressionless her eyes looked while the rest of her body was rigid and her lips pursed.

"Where were you three?" Her voice finally spoke; it was quiet and didn't show a hint of annoyance - which was only more daunting.  
"Strawberry Field," John replied as he took off his wet shoes. He seemed completely unaffected despite her disapproving glare. I wasn't sure if he was used to this sort of conversation or if this is how he coped with his Aunt Mimi.  
"_Why?_" She snapped.  
"John was just helping us celebrate the Fourth of July…" Dee tried to answer pleasantly with a respectful smile, but her confident attitude suffered a rare wither of uncertainty.  
"_Hm,"_ she puffed. "What did you do to celebrate?" I looked at John out of the corner of my eye. Certainly we couldn't mention the fireworks and I was counting on him to come up with an answer.  
"Introduced them to Pete. Listened to some records. Sat around and talked about the stars and stripes." John smiled pleasantly at Mrs. Smith who didn't seem convinced in the slightest.  
"Don't _you_ have anything to say?" At her sharp words, I slowly raised my head to meet her eyes. She was talking to _me_. My face flushed, my palms felt clammy and my mouth went dry.  
"I-well. It was just a small gathering…" I sputtered. I felt like a moron. One would think I would learn how to communicate with adults by now, but the slightest bit of pressure always got my tongue in a knot.  
"You don't have to pick on her, Mimi," John groaned. Mrs. Smith cocked her head and put her hand on her hip.  
"Deanna, you may go upstairs and change now." To my surprise, she offered Dee a slight smile at which she quickly sprinted up the stairs, flashing a sympathetic look at me before disappearing into the hall. "I need to make it clear that I will not have my tenant's flitting around with either fellow renters or the occupants of this house. This is not a game show. I expect proper house manners, morals and customs." Neither anger nor frustration crossed her face while she spoke. It was all matter-of-fact, as if she was drafting two soldiers for war.  
"Damn it, Mimi. You're not their mother. Alice and I can do what we want." John's voice grew frustrated and loud. It was the first time I felt like taking a step back from him… Had I not been still wet from the rain, I'd probably be sweating like a pig. From Mrs. Smith's warnings, John's anger and insistence of our freedom, I felt awfully tempted to run out the door and swim across the Atlantic just to get back to home. At each challenging moment yet I had wished for the stable, familiar town I left behind, but I knew there was nothing to go back to but monotonous routines and dead-ended opportunities. There were more things keeping me in Liverpool than things pulling me back to Great Falls. One of those things, admittedly, was John. It was unusual how quickly I got attached to him. It was unfortunate as well. Mrs. Smith didn't seem very keen on the idea of us together, to say the least.

"And what is it that you want to do?" Her voice grew a bit frenzied and frustration started to fill her eyes.  
"I don't know, Mimi, but I'm sure as hell not gonna tell you when I find out!" John shouted back and stormed out the door, without his shoes, slamming the door behind him. I jumped at the rattling bang of the door and dug my fingernails into my palm. The air was stuffy and tense and the lamps overhead glared down harshly on the silent hall.  
"You should go get changed," Mrs. Smith muttered. I glanced my eyes upwards to see her pale face. It took me by surprise to see her so affected by John's harsh words.  
"I'm sorry-"  
Mrs. Smith interrupted me with a wave of her hand and walked slowly towards her bedroom down the hall. My stomach churned as I trudged up the stairs. The day was _not_ ending as I had hoped.

Everything seemed bleak. I started questioning how long I'd be allowed to live here in Mendips before a final conflict kicked me to a cheap motel. Did John really like me enough to face his Aunt Mimi? Was I even going to make it until the school season or would I wimp out and be back home in a week? I rushed into my room and, instead of flopping onto my bed like usual, I ran over to Dee's and helped myself to a much-needed hug. I let out a deep sigh and Dee squeezed me close.  
"Maybe if I had a fatter finger we could be in London right now," she giggled. I laughed despite the tears that threatened to well up in my eyes. I leaned against the wall and sighed again.  
"I don't regret Liverpool," I thought aloud while I stared at the ceiling. "We had to deal with problems back in Montana too. Liverpool just has a different set of problems."  
"Problems that are making us act like adults. _Ugh!_" Dee and I laughed again and my spirits started to rise a bit. Each obstacle so far in Liverpool had weighed heavily on my shoulders. The problems facing you always seemed the biggest until you take a few steps back. Dee was always the one who put things into perspective for me and lightened the mood.  
Though as I dressed in my nightgown in the washroom, there was still a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mrs. Smith didn't like me. I was almost sure of it. I had also convinced myself that John wanted nothing more to do with me. I hung my wet dress over the shower curtain and headed into the hall way, wringing my hands and cursing my bad luck. Just as I was about to open my door, John rushed out of his bedroom and reached out his arm to stop me.  
"Wait."  
I looked up at him, trying to reject the moisture in my eyes. At the sight of him, all the drama in the entryway came flooding back. I let my hands fall to my sides and looked down at my bare feet. I was too embarrassed to have John see me cry.  
"Alice, I'm sorry," he whispered. All I could do was nod. "Follow me for a second. Please." John walked into his bedroom doorway and waited for me to come in.  
"John, I don't think I should…" My eyebrows furrowed and my thumb nervously rubbed against the soft material of my night gown.  
"_Come on_. I just need to talk to you without everyone in the house hearing. Would you just come in? For a second?" He pleaded, a bit frustrated. I took slow breath and walked into John's room.

There was a mess of papers shoved into the shelves of a short bookcase… Drawings. His guitar sat in the corner, by the window. The glare of the moon reflected off of the wood to show the many scratches and dents it had accumulated. There were a few clothes on the floor which had been shoved underneath his bed and some papers on his desk had been pushed into a pile. It looked like he tried to quickly clean up before inviting me in.

John sat on his bed and put his hands on his knees. I looked towards his desk chair, but a stack of records occupied the seat. The only other option was the bed... I chose to stand.  
"You don't have to keep five feet away from me like that. I don't bite." John tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sigh. "Come here." He stood to gently take hold of my hands and led me to his bed. John sat down and so did I. The bed creaked a bit under our weight and I could feel the back of my neck grow warm. My eyes were glued to the floor and my toes were tucked underneath the bed frame.

"Don't let Mimi get to you. She makes judgments first and thinks about it later…" John was trying his best to comfort me so I forced my sights off the floor to look at him. He smiled weakly and I bit my lip. His face was apologetic and warm, an expression which was a rare and only drew me closer to him.  
"I don't want to cause any trouble with… whatever this is." I laughed apprehensively. It felt awkward to acknowledge that we'd never truly discussed our relationship. Maybe it was too early. Maybe John didn't want to take it too seriously. I knew very little about how it all worked.  
"There's no trouble. Just let Mimi digest this for a couple of days. She's happy with what makes me happy. She'll come round." John had the tendency of casually saying or doing sweet things without acknowledging it. I smiled at his words. "_Happy with what makes me happy."_ There was no other way to interpret it. I made him happy. Although I was painfully aware that he still hadn't spoken to the last half of my sentence.  
"Okay," I murmured. His hands were still in mine. A smile washed upon my face as I tried to roll of the burdens on my back. John smiled.

_I'm on his bed._

_I'm on his bed._

The same thing started running through my mind over and over. I bit my lip to try and suppress my cheeks from blushing. Bad idea. John cupped my chin with his hand and gently kissed my lips. My shoulders went rigid.

_I'm on his bed._

My brain battled against the feeling of horror and romance. Just because I was sitting on his bed didn't mean anything had to happen…  
"_Relax_, _Alice_," John whispered. I did as told and let my shoulders drop with a slow exhale. John kissed me again and I rested my hands on his shoulders. His presence was comforting and I could feel myself slipping away from the stresses of this evening. John shimmied closer and his arms fell around my waist, his hands slipping around my lower back. I leaned further into the kiss and so did John. Against my better judgment, I let him slowly lower me down against his pillow as he lied against me. The weight of his body felt better than warm blanket on a cold day. I felt reassured and intimidated at the same time.  
"You want to know what this is?" John whispered between kisses. My stomach churned, but I nodded.  
"Alright," he grinned. "You're _my _girl. That's what this is. If I see you with another guy, I'll go mad." My face lit up. I could hear the voices of a million nagging feminists in the back of my head at his possessive words, but I had to admit I was glad to hear them.  
"So we have a label?" I laughed at my own silly question. John just grinned and nodded before kissing me again. It was getting more intense and I lifted his chin away.  
"John, I can't…" I felt childish. I couldn't even bring myself to say the word. John sighed and tucked my hair behind my ear.  
"Yeah, I know…" He rolled off of me but lied close, resting his warm hand on my stomach. He nuzzled his lips up towards my ear to whisper,  
"Stay here. All night."  
My ears felt like they were on fire. I turned to look at him and kissed his cheek.  
"No, John," I whispered back. I lifted his hand from my stomach and held it in mine while I got up from his bed. "Goodnight." I leaned down to kiss him on the cheek again, but he slipped his hand around my back and pulled me in for a proper kiss.  
"Goodnight," he breathed. I bit the inside of my cheek and smiled at him. I walked backwards towards the doorway, watching him watch me. With a small, slow wave, I left, leaving John Lennon alone on his bed. I had to take a moment outside his closed door to take a deep breath and collect my thoughts. My palms were sweaty and my fingertips were slightly shaky. I rubbed my hands down my night gown and crept back into my room, feeling a million times lighter than when I left. At Dee's request, I flicked the light off and climbed into bed. Tonight I was neither groaning nor sighing into my pillow – I was smiling. Even against all the odds, tonight was a good memory. I was utterly thankful for John's effortlessly calming words… his gentle touch. But that's what boyfriends do – because _John Lennon is my boyfriend_.

And that's why I fell asleep smiling.


	20. Chapter 20

The chiming of the downstairs clock fluttered my eyes open to a cold Wednesday morning. My toes buried into my bed covers and a shiver ran up my spine. I craned my neck over to the window to see it had been cracked open all night, allowing the chilly breeze to freeze out the room. The temptation to duck my head underneath the covers was very high, but instead I leaped up out of bed and jumped to the window, quickly slamming it shut with a violent shiver. Goose bumps trailed over my body and I grabbed a sweater from my drawers. It was actually my mother's sweater from her senior year in high school. GFHS was stitched on in big, grey letters across the front of the wooly, dark blue material. The sweater was quite worn from the many nights or rainy days I would snuggle up in it with a good book and my mother's delicious ginger snaps. This was the sweater's Liverpool debut and it still smelt of home. At its soft touch, a million memories circled my head and my lip quivered quickly. There were always little reminders of home that got me feeling awfully homesick. Letters from my parents came once or twice a week, but I longed for my father's bear hugs and my mother's persevering presence. I felt like a child lost in a candy store. Baubles and sweets caught their attention for long enough, but they couldn't help but wonder where their Mummy and Daddy had gone. Liverpool was an exciting clash of culture, but when I laid in my bed at night, I missed the sounds of my parents listening to late night radio or my mother cleaning up kitchen a quarter to eleven because she didn't want to leave it in a mess. Or my father whistling while she shaved before bed because he hated doing it in the morning.

I was feeling especially sentimental because I hadn't received my weekly letter yet. Usually, their letters would be delivered on Mondays and Saturdays, but I hadn't caught a glimpse of the postman. With the hopes that he would come by today, I got dressed in a long skirt, stockings and warm, red sweater. A flick of mascara and a whisk of eyeliner put on the finishing touches and I headed downstairs for a bit of breakfast.

I peered into the hall before continuing to the kitchen to check the time. Ten o' clock? I didn't think I had slept in that late, but then again, I _did_ take my time getting ready. Cold weather always considerably slowed me down. Thankfully, the later morning hour assured that Mrs. Smith was out of the house. She always did most her visiting and errands before noon, leaving me to a quiet and relaxed breakfast.  
The cold linoleum of the kitchen floor seeped through my stockings and gave my body another shake. A hot cup of tea would suit the weather nicely. After searching around for the tea bags and sugar, the kettle I had set on the stove began to squeal; an awful noise I always thought. I carefully poured the hot water into a white, patterned tea cup as I welcomed the warm steam against my skin.  
I bobbed the tea bag around the water and swirls of color danced around, flooding the water with a honey brown shade. I was so entranced with the making of the tea that the pattering of feet behind me almost went unnoticed. Almost.

I looked over my shoulder to see a sleepy looking, bed-headed John grin half-heartedly at me before sinking into a yawn. My lips were pulled into a bright smile and I chuckled softly to myself.  
"Good morning, sleepy head," I teased. John wrinkled his nose and staggered over to look over my shoulder.  
"I want tea," he frowned and rested his chin on my shoulder.  
"I'll make you a cup if you say please."  
"Pleaaase?" John muttered through a small grin. He drowsily pressed his lips on my neck and planted a few slow kisses. Another chill ran up my spine, but this time it wasn't from the cold. I reached up to the cupboard above me, grabbed another cup and poured it the hot water before plopping a tea bag in.  
"Here you go," I smiled and held it up next to me for him to take. John kissed my cheek, took the tea cup from my hands and flopped into a chair at the small table in the corner. A larger, more grand table filled the dining room, but the square, pale blue table was used most often for breakfasts. After grabbing a grain muffin from a platter, I joined John at the table with my tea, sitting straight across from him. A fairly sized window near the back door let in the bleak light from the cloudy sky.

"Any plans for today?" I asked John while I picked away at my muffin. At first he just cleared his throat and blinked blankly, but he finally gathered the energy to answer.  
"Nah, not really. What about you, hm? Gonna try and avoid Mimi all day?" John smirked over his tea cup and took a sip.  
"No," I rolled my eyes. I could have gladly avoided Mrs. Smith, but that would only make matters worse. As hard as it was, I would just have to be as pleasant and sociable as I could until she came round as John promised. "I was going to go down to the post office to check if I've gotten a letter from home yet."  
John rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb then cupped his chin in his hand. "I should come with you, in case you get lost in a storm and need to stay warm with body heat." Even in his sleepy state he could whip out flirtatious nuances.  
"If I have you as my guide I won't get lost," I reflected.  
"I could always pretend to be lost," he grinned.  
"You can come to the post office with me, but I don't want to get lost," I laughed. "It's too cold for that."  
"Too cold? It's not that bad. You're just not used to Liverpool weather."  
"I've gotten used to the rain," I grinned. The amount of times I had been caught in the rain with John was most likely to only keep climbing. Precipitation was pretty consistent in England. Of course, I had known that prior to the move and it was even something I looked forward to. Rain was fresh and smelled amazing, but it wasn't always so enjoyable when it caught you off guard.

John and I finished our breakfast after sitting there for nearly an hour chatting about all sorts of things. From weather to records to the efficiency of telegrams. I loved our conversation, it was peppered with jokes and laughter. John never failed to get my giggling - or, sometimes, get me rolling my eyes and scoffing at a dirty joke that I secretly found amusing. I waited in my room while John got showered and changed, cleaning up the loose hair pins and coins that had been tossed on my dresser. As I finished tidying up, John appeared in my door way. He was leaned up against the frame, wearing tight jeans and a red plaid shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. His hair was styled back into that teddy boy look he always wore and a leather jacket was draped over his crossed arms.  
"Nice room," he smirked.  
"Don't act like you haven't seen it before. It's your house," I remarked, slightly embarrassed at the way his eyes scanning over the bedroom.  
"Yes, but I haven't seen it since you moved in. Now it's more interesting." John waltzed into the room, gliding his fingers against the wall. "Which bed is yours?"  
I scowled in good humor and slight bashfulness at his question, but pointed to my bed, knowing he would persist until he got an answer. He slumped onto my mattress and rested his head against the wall.  
"Come 'ere," he coaxed. I dug my toes into the carpet and coyly swiveled on my heel for a moment. "Why do I always have to ask you twice?" He groaned.  
I laughed at his frustration and gave in, crawling onto the bed next to him and settling into his same position. He rested his large, firm hand on my knee. I always forgot how strong his warm hands felt until I felt their touch again as a pleasant reminder. Every time I remembered John sliding his fingers along the fret board of his guitar at the cavern, I appreciated his hands more. They felt so...sturdy. I turned my head to look at him and he did the same. We both smiled and John leaned in for a kiss. I rested my hands on his arm and his hand slipped from my knee and slowly down my leg. His other hand reached around my back and John pulled me closer. My arms stretched upwards to link behind his neck and I sighed into the kiss. There was complete silence besides the wind outside. It was just John and I.

Our intimate moment was interrupted by the front door being flung open and someone tramping inside. I jumped at the sudden noise and John laughed. I playfully smacked him on the chest and he tried to lean in to continue our kiss.  
"John, someone's home."  
"I don't care," he muttered under his breath. John's eyes were locked on my lips, but I could hear footsteps thud up the staircase. I drew my arms back from John's shoulders and hopped off my bed. He groaned his disappointment, but followed me into the hall.

Benjamin reached the top of the stairs just in time to see John and I walk out of my bedroom - not an innocent sight. My cheeks flushed and my eyes widened.  
"Hi," John quipped. His distaste for Ben was obvious in his tone. Although he also sounded a bit smug. I wondered why.  
"Hello, Alice," Ben smiled pleasantly, choosing to ignore John. I smiled back and raised my hand in a quick wave. "Chilly outside isn't it? I just got back from a meeting with my university's headmaster and the walk from the bus stop was brutal." I could tell Ben didn't want to talk about the weather. There was a self-important emphasis on 'meeting' and 'headmaster' that didn't go unnoticed.  
"Got to meet with your headmaster, hm? That must have been...nice." I was trying my hardest to make my voice sound genuine, but I really just wanted to end the conversation and get to the post office. John sighed and looked in the opposite direction of the hall impatiently. Ben smirked and looked irritated for a moment before turning back to me.  
"Yes, it was, thank you. They're offering me a scholarship for the upcoming school year. Apparently I'm one of the best in class. I'm as surprised as you are!" He chuckled. There were genuine laughs, social laughs and trying-to-disguise-something-as-a-joke-in-good-hum or-even-though-you're-a-self-centered-arrogant-smu g kind of laughs. I knew exactly which one _that_ just was. I smiled, though if Benjamin was more congenial, he would have seen it for the grimace it really was.  
"That's really great," I nodded slowly. With a deep breath of farewell I shrugged, "Well, we better-"  
"Are you heading outside in this weather? Much nicer day to stay in, if I do so say myself" '_Oh yes, Ben, you do so say yourself.'_  
"Yeah we're going to spend the whole day outside egging the law office," John snapped his head back towards Ben with a smirk.  
"Bad target. Those guys have pretty good lawyers, I hear." Again, he chuckled at his own joke. John mimicked his laugh into a girly giggle and I shoved his foot with mine, suppressing a grin.  
"Talk to you later, Ben," I forced a smile and dragged John by the arm, away from his teasing target and towards the stairs.  
"Watch out for your choice in company, Alice," Ben quipped. John snapped his head towards him to bark something out, but I pulled him down the stairs.

John had a pair of worn Oxfords on, but I still had yet to slip on my boots. He leaned against the door and waited for me to pull them from the closet.  
"What an ass," he scoffed. "Don't know where he gets off thinking he's so fuckin' fantastic. And what he told you? What the fuck does he think I'm going to do to you, huh? What an ass," he repeated and clenched his jaw. It didn't take much to get John riled up and Ben could easily set him over the edge. I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing how to respond to John's harsh commentary. As I slipped on my last shoe over my heel, my finger slipped out from under it, leaving me to rely on my one hopping leg to keep me balanced. John lurched forwards to steady my shoulders before I fell right on my ass. I giggled and set my troublesome foot down.  
"You're not very coordinated, are you?" John laughed.  
"Shush. It's just the stupid shoe," I pouted, though a grin started to stretch across my face. John just laughed again, his mood beginning to brighten again. I successfully slipped on my shoe on my second attempt and wrapped myself into a heavy jacket. With a ready-to-go nod, John opened the door which flung all the way back on its hinges when the wind blew through. I grimaced at the heavy gust. Wind had always been one of my least favorite things. I actually preferred an awful thunder storm over a wind one, but I really wanted that letter. I knew there was one waiting for me somehow. Perhaps it was my inner connection to home or the trust in my parents to send letters on their usual schedule.

I braced myself against the wind, my arms crossed tightly against my chest and my lashes tightened over my eyes through a narrow squint. My unsettled hair held its greatest disadvantage in weather like this. Without hair pins and bands, it was free to fly around as much as it pleased - and as much as it _dis_pleased me. Little did most men know how unpleasant it was to get hair blown into your mouth. John ducked against the wind, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and ran us forwards. We jogged nearly all the way to the post office, the wind too deafening and disruptive to get a word out. Finally, looking like two hurricane victims, we entered the post office.

We both laughed our relief at our escape from the weather and, also, the sight of each other. No amount of gel could have held John's teddy boy hairstyle in place and it lied flattened against one side of his face in defeat. I could feel the misplaced strands of hair on my head that had been tossed in every which way. After quickly trying to flatten our hair down, or rather in John's case, up, we walked over to the front counter. There wasn't any line, most likely because people didn't want to brave the weather for a couple of traveling papers.

"Hello," I smiled. "Are there any letters for Alice Foster?" The mail clerk just held up a single finger then scurried his fingers over a couple of folders. With a quick swoop of his hand, he held out a slightly crinkled, white envelope. The stamp on the upper right corner was always the first sign it was from home. My mother bought stamps from the garden club's annual fundraiser every year. Today my letter had a bright blue hydrangea blossoming in its corner. With an ecstatic thank you and excited grin, I took the precious letter from his hands. John followed me to the chairs set out by the door and sat next to me as I carefully opened the flimsy flap. In the back of my mind I knew it was rude to read a personal note in someone's company, but I knew John would understand. The starch paper peeked out of the envelope and I drew it out slowly, unfolding the letter to reveal my mother's neat handwriting.

_Hello to our dear daughter!_

_I found one of your books lying around yesterday and I went up to your room to put it away. It looks so empty in there! Especially without you, curled up on your bed - but never mind your silly, emotional mother. Dad sends his love and says, "Mind your head when walking through doorways. The Brits are short!" He had to do some convincing for me to include that in this letter. Please tell him that the British are just as normal-sized as us Americans. He always comes home spewing out outlandish facts about England just to make me tsk my tongue at him!_

I've been trying to keep busy over here. That newlywed couple (You know the ones - they moved in next to your school last summer.) just announced they were expecting their first child before the church service started last Sunday. You know how old the wife is? Nineteen! Just two years older than you… She got married a year before that, mind you. Which is only a few months older than you are now. Hm.

_I'm glad to hear you've got a wonderful co-worker. Dad was worried about you getting a job – he said you were a spoiled brat! But you know he's just teasing. We're both very, very proud. Dee's parents came over last night for desserts. They say Dee only sends letters home once a week! I'm sure glad you send as many as you can. You should talk to Dee for them – they want to hear from her!  
In her last letter, they said you two went to a club? Alice, we trust you, but those kinds of places are no good! At least wait a few months until you're eighteen, dear. That birthday is coming up fast! Oh, I wish I could spend it with you. I'll miss baking you that chocolate cake, topped off with icing sugar and cherries that you love so much. Oh! And grandma says hello and sends her love as well. She's been thinking about Grandpa a lot lately, she says. We were just talking last week about how much he loved you, dear. I know the anniversary of his death is coming up next month and I'm sending lots of hugs and kisses your way. He'd be so pleased with the adventure you're having! If he was still here, he'd be sending you a thousand letters each day asking all sorts of questions! That's just how he was, as you know. _

_There's nothing else very new here in Great Falls. Keep sending your letters! You have much more to tell us than we have to tell you. (And remind Dee to write to her parents, please.) Keep your chin up and your nose out of trouble – your father's advice. (He wants to know if you're hanging around a bunch of boys! Boo. Never mind him. Do as you please, but talk to NICE boys!) _

_We love you always and forever,  
Mom and Dad_

My face brightened immediately when I saw my mother's familiar handwriting and the smile on my face just grew bigger as I read on. It fell slightly at the mention of my late grandfather, but the corners of my lips were still lifted at memories of him and my mother's comforting words. My rollercoaster of facial expressions ended with a bright red blush. I hadn't even considered that they'd wonder about me and boys. With my blushing cheeks still in full action, I glanced at John who gave me a warm smile. He reached over and moved a strand of my hair over before slipping his hand over mine.

"It was fun watching you read that," John smirked. My flaring cheeks showed no signs of dying down and he wasn't helping.  
"Why?" I laughed. Our voices were kept low, as to not make our conversation public to the mail clerk at the desk. John shrugged and slid his feet forwards.  
"Just watching you react. Your little smiles and… stuff like that, y'know?" John took his gaze off from his feet and back upwards to me with a shy smile. It was the first time I had seen John take an absence from his confidence. It made me question whether or not that confidence was forced or just easy to come by when he wasn't trying to open up.  
My cheeks began to return to their normal hue as I caught John in the same boat as me. With a bright smile, I pecked him on the cheek. His eyes held a soft look, but a glint appeared – the same glint I would catch when he was about to kiss me. To _really _kiss me.  
"Let's go." John squeezed my hand gently and we walked back into the wind. Instead of heading straight back to Mendips, John took a detour down an alley where the wind, thankfully, found no entry between the tightly spaced buildings.  
"Ah, no wind!" I grinned.  
"No wind," he repeated with a smile. Suddenly, he locked his other hand in mine and pulled me close. "I'm going to kiss you now…"  
I nodded with a wide-eyed vacant expression. With one more intense look, he craned his neck down until his lips met mine. He was so _warm_. Even in the middle of a kiss, it was hard to describe the way his lips felt, the way his hands held mine – so firm, but gentle. It all seemed full of cliché's, but maybe that's what made it so good.

John let my hands loose to hug his arms around my waist then quickly squeezed me towards him, making me gasp quickly. He flashed a grin and pounded his lips back into mine. I certainly couldn't question his passion. My fingertips rested along the soft leather of his jacket. The same jacket I had worn just yesterday. I could feel the kiss down to my toes and my eyes were squeezed shut. My hands reached up to grip the collar of his coat and I pulled him towards me. This only got John going even more and he pulled us forwards until my back stopped against a wall. He pushed his body against mine and I let out another quick breath. His breathing was deep and quick. The heel of my shoe slowly and shakily dragged back against the wall. My knees felt like jelly. My ears were on fire and my neck was catching the burn. Yet my spine was cold as ice with chills running up and down like marathoners. When John's movements began to get heavier, I pushed my hands against his chest and slowed him down.  
"Don't stop," he panted.  
"I need to." My choice of words was clear. I _needed_ to was precisely different than I _wanted_ to. The letter from my parents was fresh in my mind. They trusted me to make good decisions and jumping into a physical relationship was the exact opposite. I had only known John for a couple of weeks; a fact that seemed lost on him, but was ever-present in my mind each time he touched me.

"God, Alice!" John took a large step back and flung his arms in the air. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched. "You're always pulling away. Is it because of what Ben said? How many times do I have to tell you I'm not an asshole?" John gripped his thumbs within his fists, but he had directed his harsh stare downwards as his voice started to break. I tried to blink away the tears that were brimming, but there was no way to hide how crushed I felt. There was a part of me that wanted to be logical and consider if John's insecurities were just being inflicted onto me, but I was furious at him. What right did he have to accuse me of not caring for him?

"I need to go home," I whimpered. I meant to say it with much more ferocity, but one look at his dejected face set me off. He looked up, maybe to stop me, but I fled from the alley before he could say a word. I ran all the way back to Mendips and locked myself away in my room with my parent's letter which I read over and over until my heart ached. I missed comfort and family. I missed _home_. _'I wish Dee was here…'_ But her shift was still hours away from its end. To pass the time, I drew out my pencil and paper and began my reply to my parents.

I kept my words positive and pleasant, but my hand halted on the last paragraph – my reply to their 'nice boys' comment. My shoulders sank and my eyes filled with tears.  
I didn't finish the letter.  
It was shoved into a drawer and I abandoned it to get ready for my evening shift. I ran towards the bus station alone and felt awful the entire ride to the diner.

The only thing running through my mind was how angry John looked, but, also, how hurt he looked. There was a nagging part of my mind that knew somehow it wasn't about being physical. He told me about losing his mother… his uncle. How often did he even get physical affection? Did he really think I didn't care about him? My thoughts swirled and my stomach did flops. By the time the bus stopped, I was utterly thankful for the distraction work would serve.

With a sigh, I pushed John out of my mind and pasted a smile across my face. Sherry passed me as I entered Gizmo's.  
"Good luck in there," she scoffed. My face twisted into a confused expression. It wasn't often I saw Sherry frustrated like this.  
"Why?"  
"You're working with the owner's daughter tonight and she's a real piece of work. You'd better keep your head up, dear, because you're night's probably about to get a lot worse." Sherry rolled her eyes with a casual laugh, but the color drained from my face. She set the bells off while she headed out the door and my stiff legs carried me to the back room.

My heart felt like it was in my stomach and my shoulder felt like they were hanging by my hips. I had an awful feeling and, for the first time, I was truly regretting Liverpool.


	21. Chapter 21

The back room of Gizmo's held an unusual aura of uneasiness. I had hardly gotten time to breathe between each problem that was being shot towards me this week. Sherry's critique of the owner's daughter was intimidating but vague and I wasn't sure what to expect. The ordeals with Mrs. Smith and John made the idea of a difficult shift nearly unbearable. It didn't really matter what I expected because I doubted completely that this day could get any worse. After pulling on my apron, I punched in – or, rather, _tried_ to punch in. The machine was nearly ten years old and refused to release the slim piece of paper it had consumed.  
"Is that thing acting up again? I _must_ convince Daddy to replace this!" A sweet, posh voice came gliding in from the swinging doors. It was matched to a dark-brown haired girl. Her smile was the first thing I noticed – she had pearly white teeth and sharply defined lips. Both her lips and her eyes were narrow, but they were drawn out in width. As she approached me to rattle a couple of the machine's gears, I noticed her beautiful profile: A slim, curved nose, slender neck and quaint jaw. My shoulders caved in at the sight of her. It didn't matter how many times people might tell you you're pretty, you _know_ when you see someone much better looking than yourself. And the girl beside me was just that. With a final jam, she got the machine clicking again and placed my slip into the proper compartment.

"You must be Alice! I'm Sharon Harvey. My dad owns this place," she smiled. It looked genuine, but Sherry's warning lingered. If Sharon was anything like the vicious girls back in Montana, I'd be seeing her ugly side as soon as she found a reason to dislike me.  
"Yes, Alice," I confirmed. "Nice to meet you… Are you from Liverpool originally?" Her voice seemed to differ from the accents I found common here.  
"No, I'm not!" She laughed. "I'm originally from London. Daddy moved us down here because he was looking for a new market."  
"London? I've read about London… It sounds like a beautiful city. How do you like Liverpool?"  
"Well…" Sharon rolled her eyes through a giggle. "Let's just say I miss London. But Liverpool has _so_ many cute boys." She raised her eyebrows and giggled again. "I really fancy all these teddy-boy, rock and roll types here. They're all so manly. Nothing like London, I can tell you."  
I politely smiled and forced an amused laugh, but she just described John's basic outer-shell. She looked like a movie star and, well, I didn't. But I promised myself long ago that I wasn't going to be vain, whether through pride or insecurities.

We made small talk for a few more seconds, but we had to get to work. The late dinner crowd began filling the tables and they kept us on our feet for the next three hours. At a quarter to nine, the diner had been emptied of all customers. Closing time was in fifteen minutes, but Sharon and I had to stick around for formalities.

"So Sherry mentioned that you're taking classes at the Art Institute this fall. What are you taking?" Sharon looked across from the table we were sitting at as she painted her fingernails with a vibrant turquoise polish.  
"Oh yeah-yes." Mrs. Smith comment last Saturday still rang in my ears. "Creative writing. Have you taken any college courses here?" I asked with interest. So far, I'd gotten along with Sharon just fine. A bomb was bound to drop eventually, but in the in-between time, I enjoyed our pleasantries.  
"Oh no, no. I do _not_ have the patience for the ins and outs of education. Mother taught me all the important things – things a housewife must do. All I need is a wealthy husband." She flashed a wicked grin and then giggled. "Besides, I don't want to invest all my time here. My father promised me I could move back to London when I turned twenty and that's only in two months."  
"You're nineteen?" I was embarrassed at how surprised I sounded. Perhaps it was more of my insecurities. True, I was a bit naïve, but I still knew how most boys fantasized about 'older women'. Even if they were only a year or two older.  
"I know, right? No one can believe I'm any older than eighteen, nonetheless headed out of my teen years. It'll do me good when I'm in my forties, though!" We both laughed and I fiddled with my hands under the table. My shift was nearly finished which meant I'd have to return to Mendips and face John.  
"Is something wrong? I don't know you very well yet, but you seem distracted." Sharon cocked her head with a sympathetic frown. She had been so nice to me so far that I decided to confide in her.  
"I guess I am," I sighed. "I just… I had a fight with my-" I hesitated at using the term 'boyfriend'. I hadn't spoken the words out loud and this wasn't a pleasant time to refer to him through the title. "I had a fight with my boyfriend."  
"Oh you poor thing! I'm sure it will all work out. Who are you going with?"  
"I'm not sure if you'd know him. His name is John…? John Lennon." Sharon's head snapped up from her nails and she looked at me with slightly bewildered eyes. She re-composed herself quickly into a small smile that exuded nothing but irritation.  
"John Lennon?" She laughed. "Dear, take my advice and stay away from him. You're just so young and _naïve_." Sharon ended with a warm smile, but all I saw was the same smirk of 'kindness' that reflected each mean girl I had ever encountered. This was the moment where tables turned and I became a target. I could tell. Naïve was not a word truly pleasant people used to describe others.

"What's wrong with John?" I tried to keep my voice light, but I could feel myself growing more annoyed by the second.  
"Don't seem so offended, Alice. I'm only trying to be a good friend." Her artificial smirk made me nauseous. "My…" She hesitated. "_Friend_ went out with him once. He's good at making you feel special until he gets what he wants from you. Not to mention he has an awful reputation. He's a troublemaker and he's headed nowhere." Sharon's voice grew cold and her friendly exterior melted. The drastic change between small talk and harsh predictions made me break eye contact. I stuffed my hands underneath my thighs to stop myself from wringing them. "Not worth it, if you ask me. Even though he's so _extremely _sexy."  
I stared up at Sharon who had her head tilted at me with suggestive, cruel eyes. It wasn't her 'friend' that went out with John. It was _her_.  
"It's nine o'clock," I muttered and quickly got up from the table. I strode over to the back room, trying to keep my calm, but in the isolated environment my tears burst forward. In a flash I punched out, grabbed my bag and threw my apron up on its hook. Without a word, I pushed past the door and into the cold air of the street. The wind had died down to a breeze, but it had successfully chilled the greater portion of Liverpool. I had wiped the moisture from my eyes before leaving, to ensure Sharon wouldn't see how awful I felt. It wasn't even the norm for me to get so emotional. The weight of the world wasn't on my shoulders, but the weight of _my_ world was on my shoulders.

"Alice…" I swiveled on my heel to find John, leaning up against the diner. He took a couple of steps towards me then stopped. My mind couldn't decide whether to smile or cry. Our fight had seemed so explosive, and yet, here he stood before me. Yet he didn't approach me or make the first move.  
"You're here…" Was all I could think to say.  
"Yeah. This is my apology. This is me, proving I care." John shrugged with his arms out at his side. "Now prove you care." My stomach felt gutted at his words. My premonitions had been right – it was never about taking our relationship all the way. John honestly had his doubts on whether my affections matched his.

I took a slow step forwards. Then another. With a short gaze of his vulnerable face, I rushed up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. I could feel John's tense body relax as he embraced his arms around my waist. In that moment I realized he hadn't been acting irrational. This felt like the first time I had truly let go of my inhibitions to express how much I really cared about him.

"I care," I smiled and rested my forehead against his.  
"I believe you," he grinned and pulled me in for another kiss. I could have stood there forever, but even my heavy jacket wasn't a match for the weather.  
"I'm cold," I shivered through a disappointed grimace. John laughed, pecked me on the cheek and started walking us down to the bus stop.  
"Ah, you frail little American."  
"Shut up, John," I laughed, but another quiver only proved his point. "I don't know how I'm going to survive the winter."  
"Sharing body heat," he grinned.

We caught the bus right before it was about to roll off and John led me up to the second floor.  
"I don't think I've gone up to this level before…" There were two young teenage boys, perhaps around fourteen, smoking down front and a couple making out by a window seat. "It's charming," I laughed.  
"The view is the best part. Come 'ere." John tugged my hand over to a window and gestured for me to take a seat. "It's a better view when you feel a bit taller. And you get to peek into people's windows…" He grinned as we passed by a woman sitting back in her armchair, watching the television in a robe and curlers.  
"That's awful!" I giggled and took in my surroundings. From this level, I could see all the intricate mouldings on the buildings. The lamp posts were eye level and shone down on the people bustling to get home before the sun disappeared completely. "This is fantastic."  
John moved my hair aside to kiss my neck. "I knew you would like it." I turned to him and we gazed at the reflection of ourselves in each other's eyes before melting into a kiss. The young boys near the front sniggered and I pulled away with a blush.  
"Get yer hands out of yer pants and grow up," he snapped at them. They quickly turned away from him and became intent on minding their own business.  
"I think you scared them," I whispered through a grin. I felt a bit guilty that John had shouted at them, but young teenage boys were cocky enough as it is.  
"Good," he laughed. "Ain't nobody gonna harass my bird," he furrowed his brows through a gruff voice then broke into a grin.

"You're really something, aren't you?" I chuckled.  
"Oh I certainly hope so." He fluttered his eyes, making me laugh again. I rested my head against his shoulder for the rest of the ride home. When the bus slowed to a stop, he stayed close behind me and walked me around the block to Mendips.

"Are you coming in?" I asked while hesitating by the front door.  
"Yeah, guess I'd better," he shrugged.  
When we entered and slipped off our shoes, Mrs. Smith crossed the hall from the parlor to the dining room.  
"Hm," she puffed. "At least you're good at getting him home on time." It was fleeting and her tone was unimpressed, but that was the closest to approval I had heard so far. I excitedly pounded my fist against John's shoulder and jumped up and down.  
"Did you hear that?" I whispered loudly. John laughed at my excitement and put his hands over my shoulders to calm me down.  
"Yeah, yeah, I heard it. She's warming up to you. I told you she would. There's no reason not to." John grinned and leaned down for a kiss which I cut short, fully aware that his Aunt was in the next room.  
"I need to get to bed. I have another morning shift tomorrow."  
He sighed and gave me another quick kiss. "Alright. Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite," he smirked.  
"I'm not five years old," I laughed.  
"But you're not eighteen yet. You're practically a child," he teased.  
"Oh, go to bed." I rolled my eyes and headed upstairs. I could hear him snigger behind me and I entered my room with a bright smile.

"I haven't seen you all day!" Dee exclaimed and jumped off her bed to pull me into a hug.  
"Ugh, good thing. Today was a mess." Dee and I spent the next half hour catching up on what we had missed. Apparently, she had met up with Pete to return his records and they ended up going out for a milkshake.  
"I'm not completely convinced this should go anywhere, but it's refreshing to meet a nice boy. Especially after all the immature garbage we had to put up with for all those years." I laughed in agreement. Boys lost their charm if you had to grow up with them. Seeing them go through a vast array of annoying phases through each grade was not appealing.

We both snuggled into our beds that night feeling light hearted and cheerful. Sharon's words still burned in the back of my mind, but after the night with John I pushed it aside. It was a problem for another time. For now I felt like I could trust John and I chose to do just that. I knew our relationship had taken a step forwards tonight which was both frightful and exciting. Ever since our first kiss I felt like whatever started up between us would end up being serious. This wasn't a fun, one-time fling. This was something neither of us wanted to miss out on and it put a certain pressure on us that I couldn't put my finger on. But there was one thing I knew for sure and it was that John made me feel special, important and utterly and simply _happy_.

As Dee fell asleep, I tip-toed out of my bed and pulled the letter to my parents out of the desk drawer. Grabbing a pen and resting the paper against the desk, I finished it off with a smile.

_Don't worry, mom. I'm talking to nice boys._


	22. Chapter 22

_I am **loving** my reviews from you guys. You all rock. Meant to get this chapter up earlier, but I was being a perfectionist and had to plan out each detail prior to writing it. Haha! Anyway, without further ado, the next chapter! Enjoy and review :)_

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The following two weeks rounded out my first month in Liverpool and, thankfully, the good had outweighed the bad. Writing to my parents that I had been talking to nice boys had set off their internal alarms and my next letter from home was bombarded with questions. _'Who are you talking to?' 'What's his name?' 'Is he taking classes too or is he graduated? Does he hold a job?'_ Those were my father's concerns. My mother expected answers to _'What does he look like?' 'Do you know him very well?' 'Has he asked you out?'_ Both of them insisted that my first date should have a third party escort, but it was too late to follow their old-fashioned rules. Although, in my defense, I hadn't even been fully aware that my first date with John was even a date. I'd have to keep the facts clear and simple in order to put my parents at ease. After work I sat at my desk and worked on my reply. Mrs. Smith had left the house quite quickly this morning, saying that she was spending the night with cousins up North. It was odd behavior, but I wasn't about to start becoming a busy body. Especially now that each look from Mrs. Smith looked less critical and closer to acceptance - or, perhaps, withdrawal. Either way I was glad to have that pressure off my shoulders.

Dee was out with Pete - their third outing since our flop of a July Fourth celebration. It was difficult for most people to keep up with Dee's thought process, but it was always simple for me. We had known each other since preschool and I could tell how much she was enjoying Pete's company. Their relationship was bound to differ from societal standards with a girl like Dee. Pete had his heart set on going steady with her, but she played coy - treating their interactions like friendship, but talking candidly about taking it further. If nothing else, Dee was completely honest which stumped a lot of people. No one expected honesty anymore - people never really did, in fact. Honesty seemed to be one of those things that was appreciated because it was so rare; appreciated, but it was smothered in proprieties. From a young age, my mother told me complaints must be kept quiet and a fib, in exchange for pleasantries, was acceptable. Dee offered the kind of honesty no one expected and, sometimes, people who had something to hide resented her for it, but I admired it beyond belief. Honesty and simplicity often went hand in hand, but speaking the truth of your mind could be so difficult for people that they'd rather weave their webs.

Honesty was the theme running through my mind as I tapped my pen against a blank sheet of paper. The letter from my parents lay on the desk for proper reference, but the only focus it held was the end paragraph. Questions upon inquiries upon interrogations lay in front of me and I hadn't a sense on how to reply.  
It was tempting to ask John for help, but he had darted out of the house just as Mrs. Smith had done. Besides, I was convinced he'd only make jokes and try writing the letter himself only to fill it with ghastly commentary which its only intent would be to discolor my conservative parents.

There were no distractions now to keep me from my reply and I set my pen down, carefully forming the neat cursive which my mother had spent many toiling hours to teach me. I still had very little of an idea of what to say, but I would just have to make it up as I went along. Perhaps the less information offered the better.

_Hello to Mom, Dad and all the rest of my Montana family!__Sorry I've taken so long to write back you. I miss you all. You know that, but I've been growing more and more accustomed to Liverpool life each day and that softens the miles from home. The trials and tribulations are beyond what I imagined as I laid in my bed the night before our departure, but the mixture of dream and reality hasn't been a bitter soup to sample.__I'm beyond excited for the upcoming school year. For once I can choose what I study! And don't worry father - if creative writing doesn't work out, the courses coordinator said teaching certificates are only a couple months away with the right work ethic.__There's not much else to reply to in concordance with your letter being that a third of its contents were based off that final sentence of mine. So I'll go on into that.__First of all, there's no reason for either of you to worry. I specifically used the adjective __nice__, if you do remember. Father - his name is John Lennon. He attends the Liverpool Art Institute just as I am, but he's enrolled in art classes. Being that he's a student, he doesn't have full time work, but he splits shingles for a few shillings when the timing is right.__Mother - I can send along a Polaroid if you really insist, but I don't see the point in wasting ink and paper describing each minuscule detail - which we both know you would badger me for. I've known him since my first day here. He's the nephew of my landlord and also lives in Mendips._

My pen stopped. If I told them I was seeing the boy across the hall, my mother would be scandalized and my father would be furious. In fact, nothing but my first few paragraphs were assuring. After copying my introduction on a fresh sheet of paper, I crinkled the rejected letter in my fist and pushed it aside.

_You two sure are asking a lot of questions in regards to my vague comment. The ratio of men to women in Liverpool is quite matched - I'm bound to run into a couple of boys eventually, especially through my job. What I meant was each boy I've happened to talk to has been nice. There's one across the hall that's-_

With a groan, I slid the paper away from me. Knowing my father would be listening along as my mother read my letter aloud, seized up my hand as I tried to write each word. My mother, to be sure, would spend days fussing over each detail of my relationship. If I thought _this_ letter had a lot of questions, I would sure be in for a surprise come round the next delivery.

At seven o'clock, Dee came home and sprinted up the stairs to find me, curled up with a book and doing my best to ignore the letter on the desk.  
"You look like you're procrastinating," she squinted.  
"You read me too well. It's the letter on the desk. I don't know what to say," I sighed. Dee leaned over to peer at the papers, both flattened and crinkled.  
"Just be honest. If you're anything less than honest you'll have to pay the price later. You just have to find a good way to word it which you're very good at. That's why creative writing is going to be your major this fall."  
"I know I should be honest, but telling them that I've gotten a boyfriend they may never meet is not going to look good on paper. Especially John. You know how much I like him, but he's my parent's worst nightmare."  
"Maybe that's why you like him," Dee giggled. I sat up on my elbows to stare at her.  
"Absolutely not. My parents have no hand in this. For once." I rolled my eyes and slumped back into my bed. "I'll just tell them the basic facts and nothing else. That's what I'll do." With a decided nod, I sat in the desk chair and carefully finished off my letter with a thoughtful expression.

It took me nearly half an hour just to get 'the basic facts' out on paper. Instead of telling my parents that I had gotten a boyfriend, I merely stated I had gone on a couple of outings with John. Not exactly truthful, but I felt the need to ease them into the truth. My past couple of letters weren't being completely authentic anyway, with me neglecting to say a word about John.  
Dee forced me to drop off the letter before I changed my mind and I nearly had a heart attack when she dropped it into the mail box after gleefully snatching the envelope away from me. All there was to do now was to wait for my parent's response and hope that they wouldn't show up on my front step with a one-way ticket back home. But, then again, I always over-thought things and perhaps I was completely overreacting. Only time would tell – a saying my grandmother used often.

Shortly after the hall clock stroke ten o'clock, a ruckus at the entry interrupted Dee and I's quiet conversation.  
"What was that?" Dee jumped up to peer out of our bedroom door, down to the source of the noise.  
"Is someone breaking in?" My eyes were wide with fear and my heart was pumping fast from the sudden clamor. "Wait… Those voices sound familiar…" We were both quiet to listen in on the conversation.  
"Where the hell is everyone?" That must have been Paul.  
"I saw Mrs. Smith by the train this morning. I think she's gone." Another voice spoke, but I couldn't match a name to its tone.  
"That's Pete!" Dee whispered loudly. I shushed her, worried that the boys below would hear us.  
"Would you fucking let me go? I can fucking stand!" John's voice was so slurred I almost couldn't recognize it. In unison, Dee and I glanced at each other with concern. Without another word, I ran into the hall and down the stairs.

John was slumped against the door, each arm being held up by Paul and Pete. His face was flushed and his feet were crooked. A sloppy grin rippled across his face when he noticed me, replacing the sickly, dropped lip expression it held before.  
"Oh look. An angel," he mumbled. He knocked his head back against the door and the light of the lamp hit his face to reveal a nursing bruise.  
"Oh my god," I muttered and my hands flew up to my mouth. "What happened to him?" My voice grew louder, but it shook with worry. I had never seen John, or anyone for that matter, in such a state.  
"We're really sorry to bring him back here, Alice. We didn't know what else to do. We were all at a pub, John had too much to drink… he got into a fight. Luckily, we got him out of there before it got too bad, but he got a rough shiner in the eye." Paul grimaced through his explanation, guilt ridden and just as concerned for John as I was. Although I could tell Paul had seen John in this state before. My distress was perplexed with fear. Was John going to be okay? Was there anything I could do to help? With slow steps, I approached John and softly rested my hands on his chest.  
"…John?" The back of my mind was cursing me for sounding so close to tears, but the bottom of my heart paid no mind. "Are you alright?"  
"_God._ Alice. It's you! Hi, darling. Did you put the children to bed?" His loud laugh rang through the quiet house and my hands dropped. "Oh! That's right we don't have any children. Well, whoops. Better fix that." With another blind grin, John reached out and tugged me towards him, his hands around my waist. I tried to step back, but his grip was tight and, at my resistance, he began to kiss my neck.  
"Stop it, John," I snapped.  
"Fuck off." Pete slammed John back against the door, but gently enough that his head didn't rebound off the wood. "We should have known this was going to happen today."  
Paul nodded and I snapped my eyes between the two.  
"Why?"  
"Alice," Paul looked over to me earnestly and continued, "Today's the first anniversary of his mum's death." He lowered his voice, assuring that his words would be missed by John.  
"July fifteenth," I stammered. My feet slid backwards until they hit the staircase and I flopped onto the steps. Across from me was John who seemed more lonely and sad than I had ever seen him before. My eyes stopped fighting the moisture that was welling up and I buried my face in my hands to hide the tears that began to slip down my cheek. This is not the John I had promised my loyalty to. I hardly recognized him and yet I felt the burning need to stay with him.

"We'll get him cleaned up. Then we'll take him… somewhere. I dunno. I'm sorry we bothered you, Alice." I felt Paul's hand on my shoulder for a short moment and then he and Pete lifted John towards the kitchen. Dee sprinted down the stairs at which she had been standing at the top, watching the entire scene unfold.  
"Alice, everyone acts like that when they're drunk. Don't worry. He'll be fine." Dee soothed her words and rubbed her hand slowly against my back.  
"I have to help him." My voice was quiet, but my tone was determined. I dropped my hands to my knees and raised my face to my friend, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. Dee opened her mouth to argue, but instead nodded apprehensively.  
"Okay."

I arched my shoulders back and strode into the kitchen to find the troublesome trio. John was slumped over the sink, moaning illiterate slurs. Pete had his hands gripped around his shoulders, holding him up and Paul was grabbing a bucket near the door.  
"Alright, move him." I watched in silence as Pete staggered backwards with John to make room for Paul who began to fill his bucket with cold water.  
"My eye hurts… I could have fucking taken him if you wouldn't have been such pussies!" John shouted the last word clearly, but the rest were nearly lost through mumbles.  
"Shut up, John," Pete sighed. From the way he held John up to the way he communicated, I could tell this blond-haired boy had helped his friend through many drunken nights. Neither of them had acknowledged my presence, but when Paul pulled the bucket from the sink, he made eye contact with me.  
"What's the bucket for?" I asked. My arms were crossed over my chest and my hand was held up to my chin.  
"To sober him up." Paul broke our eye contact and gestured Pete over to the sink. Once John was positioned over the drain, Paul raised the bucket over his head and unforgivingly splashed the ice cold water over his hair. I gasped at the sudden commotion and John leaped up only to fall backwards on his ass.  
"Fucking hell, Paul!" His eyes were ablaze with fury, but that was easier to look at than the clouded, barely-there look they held before. "Fuck. I wasn't drunk enough for the water. Fuck…" Another spew of profanities sputtered out of his mouth as he ran his hands through his soaked hair.  
"You _were_ that drunk, you shithead. Scared the fuck out of Alice." Pete scoffed at his inebriated friend as he made excuses in his recovering state.  
"What?" John's face dropped and his voice softened. "Damn it… Alice." If not for my stiff legs, I would have crept out of the kitchen, but the expression on John's face only drew me closer. I tip-toed over to him and leaned down on my knees.  
"It's okay," I whispered. It was all I could think to say. Those two words were the only words I needed to hear when I was a little girl and maybe they could comfort a heartbroken young man. John tightened his lips and leaned his head back against the fridge to look at me. A weak smile rippled against my lips. John's head dropped and he heaved into heavy sobs.

The air was tense. Each one of us, Pete, Paul and I, were hearing the sobs of a boy who traded tenderness and good reputations for a tough exterior. It was awful. I wanted to run out of the room and lock myself away, pretending that I had never heard John sound and look so destroyed. But I could not abandon him. Even if my fleeting courage that hadn't matured since first grade urged me to shrug off my adult responsibilities and relationships, I could not move from my spot beside John. At first, I rested my hand on his shoulder. I could feel his body tremble. Suddenly, I was draped over him, my arms around his neck and my head resting against his. To a spectator, the entire scene would look awfully dramatic, but it felt much simpler than that. In my mind, John was just a man who had been hurt and needed comfort. There was no romance in his pain, neither in my patient company. It was a simple case of human emotion. Only that emotion happened to be pain and it was burdening John on an immense level.

As his cries turned to deep, trembling breaths, I gestured Paul and Pete off. They looked dead-beat tired and seeing their friend in such a fragile state had shaken them. After a bit of hesitancy, they stalked off into the main hall with an appreciative nod. I heard Dee strike up conversation with them, led by questions regarding their arrival.  
"Your bed would feel a lot better than the kitchen floor." I kept my voice low as I rubbed his back with hand, my head still resting against his and our breathing patterns filling one another's ears.  
"Yeah," John muttered and inhaled slowly and deeply. As he stood up, he kept his face turned from me, but grabbed my hand as I led him out of the kitchen. The air felt lighter as we made our way through the dining room, leaving the tense scene behind us. Dee was sending off Pete and Paul at the front door who peered their heads back in to get a look at John.

"Need any help?" Paul asked, his doe eyes lined with a concern that was slightly alleviated when John spoke back with precise words.  
"No, I'm fine. You two should go. You'll get in trouble with your folks." His face was still turned away from the rest of us, his eyes directed at the top of the stairs.  
"Alright," said Paul softly.  
"Feel better, John. We'll come round tomorrow. Maybe go down to the record shop with that pound note I got from my aunt." Pete tried his best to make his tone casual. John just nodded and, taking silence as their cue, Pete and Paul left the house.  
"You can go to bed. I'll be in, in a bit." I smiled my assurance towards Dee who sighed and went upstairs. I knew she was worried about what happened tonight and how I was going to handle it all. The bubble that had formed around me in my adolescence had been close to bursting since our arrival in Liverpool, but tonight it popped.

Without a word, John and I slowly walked to his room. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed, upset or still feeling the burden of grief that led him to this state in the first place. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three, but I couldn't be sure. He hadn't turned around to face me yet, but after he led me into his bedroom, he turned around. He had wiped away the moisture from his face with his sleeve, but his eyes were bloodshot. The bruise on his right eye was colouring into a nasty hue of purple and his cheeks were still flushed, though the rest of his face was pale. Beads of sweat ran against his hairline and his entire body was haggard. I withheld my sympathetic look. John didn't want my pity, he wanted my support.

I stood in front of the partially opened door, my toes tucked tightly against one another and my dress wrinkled from the long hours I had worn it today. John swayed towards me, reaching his hands past my head to close the door. As the door creaked into its close, John leaned forwards, pressing me between the door and his chest. With a lulled _click_, the room was closed off into four walls; John and I being its only occupants.  
"Don't leave me," John breathed his plea in my ear and pressed his warm lips against my jaw line. It wasn't the first words I was expecting to hear from him and I bit my bottom lip to fight off the tears.  
"Don't say that, John. It's okay. You should go to bed." I was starting to feel John's heavy dependence on me and my cowardice spoke up against it. It felt dangerous to give in to such a heavy connection, but I had no rational reasons against it.  
"Stay with me. Please. I need you." His lips curved around mine and his hands dropped to my thighs. "Stay the night." For a moment, I shut my eyes and allowed myself only to think of his body against mine as his hands slid around my leg, but I forced myself to snap out of it.  
"I'll stay on one condition." I spoke quietly, worried that a louder voice would bring out my underlying trembles.  
"Anything."  
"We can't do anything. Not like this… Not so soon." My heart was beating fast, awaiting his response. I wasn't sure if he'd be upset with me or accuse me of abandonment. Instead, he pulled his body away from mine, just an inch.  
"Okay. Just as long as you stay." Brown eyes poured out genuine pleas and a trusted agreement. My mind was entranced in his eyes, but I vacantly nodded my agreement.  
"I need to get changed. So do you. I'll be right back." After forcing myself to break eye contact, I quickly slipped out the door and into my own room where Dee was waiting up on her bed.  
"How is he?" She was nibbling on the side of her thumb, a bad habit we both shared.  
"Lonely," I sighed. "Dee, I can't leave him right now. He wants me to spend the night in his room and I agreed. _But_ he promised not to try anything... _Don't make that face_." The thought of Dee's disapproval was mortifying, but she used understanding over judgment.  
"As long as he keeps his promise. You're not even legal. Remind him of that! I don't know if that's a big deal here in England, but it is in the States. Call me if you need me." Her tone was strict, but she ended with a supportive smile. After changing into my nightgown in the washroom, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Suddenly my sleeping attire felt more exposed than ever before. I considered pulling on a sweater, but the night was too hot for that. I'd burn my weight in sweat. Instead, I shuffled my feet towards John's bedroom, trying to ignore how awfully aware of my clothing I was. With a short knock, I opened the door a smidgen.

"Come in, Alice," John laughed softly at my disinclination. With a deep breath, I scurried inside, closing the door behind me and wincing at its slight squeak. Mrs. Smith wasn't here to hear it, but her presence loomed. I craned my neck to glance over my shoulder at John whom I assumed was fully dressed. Wrong assumption. The only clothing he had on was a pair of boxers.  
"John!" I laughed under my breath in embarrassment and covered my eyes. "You said I could come in!"  
"Yeah. Is there something wrong with this?"  
"Well, I suppose not, but…"  
"Then put your hand down." I did as told, but my sights were stuck on the carpet.  
"Look up." With a slight grimace, my eyes rose from John's bare legs to his face. "That's better," he grinned.  
"Finish dressing yourself or I'll leave!" I jeered, but I giggled underneath my threat which only made John's grin widen.  
"Don't have to finish a thing. This is how I sleep." John shrugged and jumped onto his bed, in a relaxed position.  
"Not tonight," I scolded. "Get a shirt on at least."  
"Scared you won't be able to resist me?" I scoffed at John's cheeky comeback, but despite his teasing, he pulled on a plain, black t-shirt. He returned to his bed and threw back the covers. "Ladies first."  
With a quiet, uncomfortable groan, I crawled into his bed and laid my back against the wall. John slid in after me and rested his arm against my waist.  
"Am I allowed to do that?" He challenged.  
"I guess that's okay…" Lying in his bed felt foreign, but I couldn't truthfully say it felt incorrect. The letter I had sent earlier to my parents flashed through my mind and my cheeks flared up. John shimmied closer to me until his legs touched mine and our faces were inches apart.  
"Am I allowed to do _that?_" he whispered, his usual grin missing from his face. A chill shot up my spine.  
"John…" To say his name in a disapproving tone was my only defense against his charming and persuasive advances.  
"I like it when you say my name," he breathed into my neck then pressed his lips against mine. His arm tightened and pulled my hips against his and his warm thigh rubbed against mine. My hands were pressed against each other in front of me, but John trailed his fingertips down my arm until he met my hands, tugging them to his chest. He held both my hands in one of his, and slid them down his shirt until they met the hem, then burrowed them underneath his clothing and back up his bare chest. My hands pushed him away, but the firmness of his chest only drew me in closer. A silent moan startled myself back into reality and I shook my head as I pulled away.  
"No, John. I said I can't. Don't do that!" My voice grew harsh, but I knew it wasn't entirely his fault. I had allowed myself to be sucked in. I laid my head back into the pillow and softened my face. "I just want to lie here. Please."  
John just nodded with a dissatisfied sigh. He flopped over on his back and stared at the ceiling.  
"Her name was Julia. I don't think I ever told you that." His thoughtful face eased me into the abrupt subject change.  
"You didn't tell me. Julia is a nice name."  
"See that guitar?" John pointed to the acoustic guitar leaned against the window.  
"Mhmm."  
"She bought me that. My first guitar. She'd always play records for me when I visited her. Not the kind Mimi plays, the kind of music I like. We use to dance in her kitchen because her living room would be so cluttered with all sorts of things. Mimi never visited her because she hates messes, but I didn't mind. It just meant she could pay more attention to us – us being my two half-sisters. Did I tell you about them?"  
"Not yet," I smiled warmly.  
"The oldest is named after my mum – the other's name is Jacqueline, but we call her Jackie. Sometimes I'd skip school and it'd just be me and mum. She taught me and my friends banjo chords. They were all really fuckin' impressed, you know. They'd never seen a woman play any instrument other than piano."  
"What songs did she teach you?" My eyes were fixed on him. I could tell his mind was recalling every detail of each memory he shared.  
"Lots. I remember that she taught me 'That's All Right' by Elvis because she'd always make me do impressions of him." John laughed. "She gave me money to go see one of his films with my sisters once. All the girls were freaking out over him, especially when he took out his guitar. I went home to my mum and told her I wanted to be like Elvis." John's eyes twinkled and he looked over at me. "Stupid, huh?"  
"No. Not at all." I responded truthfully, my honesty evident on my face.  
"That's what she thought too," he smiled. "I wish she could have met you. She would have really liked you."  
"I already like her. She sounds perfectly exuberant," I laughed at my own choice of words and so did John.  
"Perfectly exuberant," he repeated. "I like that." Silence rested over the room. Not an awkward silence, but a peaceful one. A silence in which bad memories were traveling further behind and fresh starts were being ventured towards. "It's been one year." John paused. "I still miss her as much as I did three hundred and sixty-five days ago." His eyebrows knitted together and he squeezed his eyes shut. I could sense him tense up.

Instead of using my words, I used my touch. I rested my hand on his neck and moved closer to him. I slid my hand down his arm and interlocked my fingers with his. His eyes stayed shut, but his body relaxed with a deep exhale. When I rolled over to lie on my back, he pulled me towards him again, sliding me into a spooning position. He slowly moved strands of my loose hair away from my neck and goose bumps trailed over my arms. He rested his chin against my shoulder and my waist was locked within his arms. Our breathing was slow and steady, but my heart beat faster at the feeling of his warm breath against my neck which rolled down to my chest and fluttered my night gown.  
"I'm glad you stayed." John's voice was a mere murmur and sleepiness quieted his voice.  
"Me too." I had my uncertainties, but my words were ringing with truth. I had been offered a rare glimpse into his memories and I felt the sentimental value of our relationship rise with each story.  
"I love you…" John slurred as he slipped into slumber. I forced my shoulders to keep relaxed, not wanting to wake John, but his words had set me on fire with both surprise and exhilaration. The bucket of cold water that, even now, had his hair dampened, hadn't completely cured him of his inebriation. That, in addition to falling asleep, discredited his words. Didn't it? We'd only been dating for nearly a month and yet I didn't feel myself push away his declaration. Doubting he would remember in the morning, I allowed both mind and body to relax. John's body against mine made fall asleep in record time. Whether he meant those three words or not, his protective arms around me was the most calming feeling in the world and both our worries slipped away.

It felt like this moment would last for the rest of our lives. If morning did happen to come, we'd be the only two people and earth and we'd never have to let go of each other. My mind went off again, scolding me for being so senseless and so easily whipped into romanticisms, but my sleepy body allowed every euphoric and warm touch resonate through me, rocking me to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

_Two apologies: Delayed chapter and short chapter! I've already begun on the next and wholeheartedly plan on getting it up much sooner than it took to get this one posted! As usual, thank you all so much for your reviews. It means so much to me that you're taking the time to tell me your opinion and it's a great comfort to see that you're following along with each chapter. I would be more than pleased if any of you would like to send me a personal message with a link to one of your stories for me to review. Or just message me for anything, really. Haha! Another reminder that my ask fm link is also in my description for any use of yours at all whether it be random questions or if you'd like to anonymously give me some constructive criticisms. Thanks for reading this big boring chunk of commentary (if you did actually read it, that is). Read, review and enjoy, lovelies! _

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Morning crept quickly into the corners of John's small bedroom. I awoke by groggily pressing my toes into the chill sheets and burying my head into my pillow - but it wasn't my pillow. With a weary blink, my sleepy mind recovered its entire consciousness and I slowly craned my neck over my shoulder to see John, fast asleep.

_We slept in the same bed. All night._

John flipped onto his side through a tired groan, his back turned to me. I slid the covers over my chin and bit my lip, feeling like a little girl who had too many cookies out of the cookie jar. Suddenly everything felt so innocent. Last night seemed like a distant memory, apart from falling asleep in John's arms. That was still extremely clear. The idea of sleeping in a boy's bed would be enough to send my mother into an emotional fit, but I felt no remorse or guilt. It seemed natural to wake up next to him, even though I had to hold back giggles every time he muttered unintelligible words under his breath. Perhaps the veil of innocence came from John's personal stories, the way he talked. John was the age of a man, but a little boy still lived within him and I met that side of him last night.

As quietly as I could, I snuck out of John's bedroom and into my own. Mrs. Smith was still at her cousin's and Dee must already have left for work. Ben was… BEN. I froze in the middle of my room. I had completely forgotten about Benjamin's possible presence last night. If he was home then he must have heard _something_. I hurried through my morning routine and flew down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom step, I slowed my pace to a relaxed speed and strolled into the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The kitchen did indeed hold one of Mendips renters, but it wasn't who I expected.

"_Dee!"_ I sighed my relief. If Ben had heard what went on, Dee was the best defense I could have against his disapproval. "I thought you were at work. I'm so glad you're here!"  
"What's with you?" she laughed. "I'm not scheduled today. We're training a new employee before we hit the busy season so she's taken over a couple of my shifts… Did something happen?" Her eyebrows knit together quickly in concern.  
"No, not really. It's about last night… Dee. _What if Ben was home?"_ I groaned and clapped my hands over my cheeks. There was genuine worry, but my mood was too giddy and the situation too messy to be completely serious and I couldn't help but giggle softly through my horror. Dee's jaw dropped and she laughed through her gaped expression. Within seconds, we both had completely lost our wits and were leaning on the counter for support through our shaking laughs.  
"It's – it's not funny!" I tried to catch my breath to express myself more gravely, but giggles kept betraying my sternness.  
"What's not funny?" Dee and I snapped our heads in unison towards the voice pleasantly chuckling from the doorframe. It was Ben.

"Oh, nothing." Dee cleared her throat and bit onto her bottom lip to lock away another fit of laughter. I pressed my fingers against my mouth and glanced away from Ben. One look at his confused, out-of-the-loop face would set me off again. My attentive friend noticed that I was in no condition to answer the question that had got us giggling in the first place so she took it upon herself to do some masked interrogation. "Did you do anything fun last night?"  
"Ah, well, nothing that made the headline," he chuckled. There was nothing like Benjamin chuckling at his own boring joke to make someone regain their composure in a flash. I rolled my eyes then turned back towards him while he continued. "Met up with some friends, but I turned in earlier than the others. I was home shortly before eleven and assumed you two had retired for the night. Hope I didn't disturb either of you."

"Oh no, not at all." A pleasant smile was pasted across my face as my mind rejoiced its relief. Pete and Paul had left by ten thirty and John was in bed shortly after that. Ben had missed the whole scene by a sliver of time. "We were already our beds fast asleep by then!" I could hear Dee snort quickly as she withheld a laugh at my choice of words.  
"Yup! Fast asleep in our _own_ beds." Dee's voice wobbled and my shoulders shook quickly with silent laughter. We both cleared our throats at the same time to make things seem less inconspicuous which only made us almost lose it again. Both of us had to quickly turn towards the counter and away from Ben to resist the urge the break out in laughter. I bit my tongue in my cheek and dutifully took a tea cup out of the cupboard, trying to cover up our odd behavior.  
"Well…" Ben sounded puzzled, as he should. This was always the way it was back in Montana – Dee and I would be in our own carefree world and everyone around us would be confused as hell, but that's the way we liked it. It surely weeded out the boring personalities efficiently. "I have some errands to run. Until later, ladies."  
"Bye!" My voice blurted out my farewell much too loud and I caught my breath between a quick giggle. Ben just nodded slowly with a quick smile and escaped the immature environment that had entered the kitchen.  
"Goodbye!" Dee shouted after him with in a sweet, sing-song voice which set us both over the edge. I dropped my head into my arms on the counter and cracked up. Our hysterics died down when our aching sides complained against our excessive tittering.  
"I think you just scared away your secret admirer, Dee."  
"Good!" We both heaved our last laugh and breathed recovering puffs.

We both served ourselves some breakfast and chatted at the table over toast and freshly brewed tea for nearly half an hour before heavy footsteps slumped their way down the stairs.  
"John's up," Dee smirked. I chuckled softly and got up to meet him in the hallway. Dee stacked our plates into the sink and wisely began to make a pot of coffee as I traipsed towards the staircase.  
John pounded his feet down the last step as I strolled into the hall. His hair had been patted down, but bits of it still stuck up to one side. The bruise around his eye had darkened and was looking more painful now than when it was fresh.  
"Good morning," I smiled with a slight grimace at his rough image.  
"Do I look that bad?" he grumbled. I didn't answer. Instead I hung my arms around his neck and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek.  
"Do you want some breakfast?"  
"Well now I kind of want desert." John grinned and kissed my lips slowly. He drew back with a sharp inhale and brushed his fingers near his bruise.  
"You need some ice," I sighed. A frown flashed across my face, but I replaced it with a positive beam and led him to the kitchen, his hand in mine as he tiredly dragged behind me.

When we stepped into the doorway, John tugged on my hand. He groaned quietly and gestured his head towards Dee. His feet shuffled and he dropped his head as he pressed his thumb into my palm. I understood his silence perfectly well and rested my other hand on his shoulder.  
"You don't have to be embarrassed, John. She was here last night. It's not a big deal. Promise." His head was still craned downwards, but he nodded and wrapped my arm around his waist before walking us into the kitchen.  
"The prize fighter has arrived," John grinned with a quick wince. I was impressed with how quickly he could turn on his charisma when only seconds ago he was hesitating from any more interaction.  
"Prize fighters aren't supposed to get black eyes," Dee teased with a good-natured smirk. "I'm making some coffee."  
"Mm. Good," John nodded slowly and I could tell he was feeling a bit embarrassed again. So could Dee.  
"Well… I have some errands to run. Catch up with you later. Feel better, John." With a quick wave and a friendly smile, Dee gathered her things from upstairs and was out the door. John slumped into the kitchen chair as I emptied out the ice tray onto a tea towel.  
"Here you go." I handed John the makeshift ice pack and he slowly rested it against his eye, battling a much fiercer wince than the one he was showing.

The click of the clock was the only sound to fill the silence as I poured John some coffee and grabbed a muffin from the platter of baked goods that was always well-stocked. As I sat next to him, I slid over the mug and muffin with an earnest look.  
"This will make you feel better."  
"What do you know about nursing a hangover?" He laughed quietly.  
"I'm not _as_ naïve as you think,' I nudged his shoulder with a quick laugh. "My father had late night parties every now and then. When he woke up, my mother would always have coffee and lots of grains ready for him on the table. She said those were the two things essential to the morning process." I laughed as I recalled the sight of my groggy father sniffing out the rejuvenating morning coffee.  
"Alice…" John's tone changed the playful conversation and his eyes flicked up towards me. In his silence, my mind was filled with a thousand possibilities of what he might say next. Suddenly, I remembered the words he had uttered last night when he fell asleep. '_Did he remember?'_

"I'm sorry."  
I took a deep breath. "It's okay." I didn't have to ask what the apology was for.  
"I can't remember much about last night, but I know I was…" John slid his fingers along the edge of the table and interrupted himself with a subject change. "I remember that you stayed all night, though." He glanced at me with a small grin.  
"Do you remember telling me about your mum?" My voice softened to a whisper. I didn't want to bring up any pain, but last night meant to much too me to wonder whether John had forgotten.  
"Yeah…You said you liked her." John smiled again and cleared his throat. Gentle moments weren't impossible to come by, but they were rare. Not long into them, he would have to lighten conversation. As he continued to do now. "You said she was _perfectly exuberant._" John fluttered his eyes on his emphasis and laughed.

'_If he could recall my exact words then what else did he remember?' _

The question burned in my mind, but I pushed it away. I wasn't going to waste my time and energy fussing over something he said half-asleep. There wasn't any point to it. The small flame of wonder flickered in the back of my head, but I wasn't about to bring it up. A quick laugh and eased subject change put the wonderings to bed and temporarily extinguished the flame.

After John finished picking away at his breakfast, I was reminded of Pete's plans from last night.  
"Oh, Pete said he wanted to go to the record store with you today." John glanced over his shoulder as he rinsed out his coffee mug in the sink.  
"Did he stop by already?"  
"No, he mentioned it last night..." It was frightening how quickly he could completely forget a chunk of time. Another reason I had never had a drop of alcohol.  
"Oh," John turned back to the sink and dropped his dishes in. "Better go meet up with 'im..."  
I nodded slowly and traced my fingers over the grooves of the table, my eyes locked downwards.  
John's feet shuffled over and he kneeled next to my chair, draping his arm around my shoulders.  
"Alice," he paused until I met his eyes. "I'm fine."  
"I just-" I cut myself off at the feeling of a lump in my throat. Slowly, my hands rested against his shoulders and slipped down to press against his chest. I cleared my throat and blinked quickly. "I know." John wasn't convinced until a sighed into a resigned smile.  
He mirrored my front and rested his hands against my knees. We looked at each other for a moment then John lifted up to meet my lips. Reaching my hands up to rest against his shoulders, and feeling his sturdy hands against my arms was the last bit of comfort I needed to put last night's memories to rest.

"I should get out of here before Mimi gets back," he said softly.  
"Why? You think that bruise will be gone by tonight?" I cracked.  
"Ha! I can only hope so." John winked and pecked my cheek with a kiss before sauntering out of the kitchen. I laughed under my breath to myself. It seemed arbitrary that we had only been dating for a month. Our relationship seemed to advance so far in such little time. Perhaps a few of the challenges facing us spurred our loyalty forwards rather than setting us back. Then again, I had nothing to compare this romance with, but, honestly, I didn't want to compare it. I was glad that I hadn't any relationships before this. There was nothing to live up to or hope for. John and I went with what was natural for ourselves instead of the societal norm and I couldn't be happier with that unspoken course of action. It was carefree. It was meaningful. It was 1959. This year was going to be fantastic. It already had been beginning with the move to Liverpool. The air held something more than the smell of rain and the chance of a storm and I couldn't wait to see the rest of the year unfold.


	24. Chapter 24

_I could give you a list of endless excuses as to why it took me twelve days to get this next chapter up, but I used my words more wisely to finish this chapter. As always, I have to thank you all for your reviews! They keep my muse fed and keep me encouraged! Read, review and enjoy!_

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The hours of my morning ticked away slowly. The house was empty and the weather was too frightful to go traipsing about. John, Dee and Ben didn't seem to think twice about the dark clouds hanging overhead, but the wind was shrieking around the outer walls of Mendips and rain was beginning to strike against my window pane. A severe thunderstorm was brewing and it made my knees feel wobbly. Violent weather had always frightened me to wits end and, unlike my fear of the dark, this anxiety hadn't ceased with age.

Thankfully, the front door flew open, announcing someone who would hopefully be a distraction from the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ben usually began whistling as soon as he walked through the door so it couldn't have been him. Dee usually wasted no time in prancing up the stairs to find me and John hardly came home at all. That only left one option – Mrs. Smith. I grimaced at my wall and wished it could offer some key advice on how to greet her. Or at least a shrug, but it stayed in its stone-faced, off-white form had always been so I tip-toed downstairs on my own.

It was indeed Mrs. Smith who came through the door. She was peering into the parlor with a scrutinized expression that made me wonder if she was checking for damages. The bottom step of the staircase creaked and gave away my presence as well as spooking Mrs. Smith enough to whip her head around to look at me.  
"Why are you sneaking about like that?" A dainty yet firm hand rested against her chest and her stern aura breathed a sigh of startled frustration.  
"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to sneak up - I just wanted to say… Um, hello." _'Could I have sounded anymore juvenile?'_ I cleared my throat and tried again. "How was your trip?"  
"Well," Mrs. Smith slipped her gloves off and draped her coat over her arm. "It was a very long bus trip. Seven hours, in fact. And the driver really had no consideration for the passengers…"

I stood on that staircase for quite a long time listening to each detail of her trip. Most of the story included complaints and the kind of commentary you could expect from such an opinionated woman, but I did my best to listen intently. My mind wandered, but not out of disrespect. I had never had a conversation this long with her and it softened the image I had of her. The way she drew out each detail to her stories made me wonder if sometimes she just got lonely. I watched her mouth move as she drew breaths and clicked her tongue. John had told me that her husband had passed away several years ago and she had raised John up from only five years old. I would like to think that if such things had happened to me, I would deal with them gracefully and come out on top without any bitterness, but I couldn't make myself believe that. As I tossed about every circumstance this woman in front of me must have faced over the years, my respect developed into a slight admiration.

Here she stood in the hallway of her own home in her drab tweed suit and solid platform heels, withholding from each loss and challenge that had whipped through her. Raising John would have been anything but a walk in the park. John faced the loss of his uncle, mother, and had lost contact with his father, but Mrs. Smith had lost her husband, sister, and had to console both mother and child when their provider walked out. The description of her trip was being unfairly lost on me, but all these sudden epiphanies must have been more important than how she hadn't gotten a window seat on her bus.

Both my musings and Mrs. Smith's words were interrupted when the back door rattled open then slammed closed. We both turned our heads down the hallway to see a windswept John glide towards us, head down. When he flicked his hair out of his eyes, he caught the stare of his Aunt Mimi and froze. His train of thought was almost visible – _'Black eye'_. It definitely had not disappeared by the time his aunt re-appeared as he had been hoping.  
"Welcome back, Mimi!" John beamed and patted her lightly on the shoulder. His enthusiasm didn't distract from the nasty bruise over his eye.  
"What happened?" She sighed impatiently.  
"To what?" A crooked grin sloppily pulled across his face.  
"John Winston," she spoke gravely.  
"I ran into a light pole." John tried to dim his grin, but the best he could do was to damper it to a smirk. He leaned against the stair's railing and crossed his arms, looking desperately for a challenge.  
"Is that so?" Mrs. Smith's expression went unchanged, but her chin dipped down to glare under her lashes through the lamplight. "And when did this foolish act happen?"  
"Yesterday." His smirk fell and Mimi rolled her shoulders back. Suddenly I felt very out of place. The two of them knew perfectly well what yesterday was.  
"You should wear your glasses, John." With that, Mimi turned her heel and closed herself in her bedroom.

_'Neither of them were going to talk about Julia?'_ Throughout my upbringing, my mother would regularly hold impromptu conversations about each scoff or sigh that ever escaped my lips. There was a deep contrast between my home life and John's. It made me feel guilty for each complaint I had ever groaned to Dee about my overbearing mother and father. John's head dropped while he exhaled slowly and he quickly clapped his hands over his eyes, letting his fingers drag down his cheeks before swiveling over to the stairs – where he noticed me.

"Hell, didn't see you there." He tried to laugh, but it was lost on a deep sigh. Instead of trying to shove off his distress, as he always did, he slumped into the steps of the staircase and stretched his feet in front of him. I sat close next to him and waited for him to say the words that were dancing on the tip of his tongue. "She never talks about it. Not a word. Not about mum, not about Uncle George. She acts as if it never happened, but it did. It all happened."  
"I'm sorry, John." It felt like such a generic, meaningless reply, but I couldn't think of a thing to say. I rested my arm around his shoulders and brushed my fingertips through his hair. His chin was rested against his clasped hands and his body looked tense. "You know… When my grandfather died, my grandmother didn't say anything for a long time. And you know what she finally said? She said words immortalize the truth." I paused and John quickly raised his head to look at me. He nodded. And that was it.

We sat there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. After a mutual quietness, he slipped his hand into mine and rested it on his leg. Everything was still, but I heard every silent word he was saying and his shoulders relaxed. The clock chimed the passing of the hour and we still sat there. It clicked away and we still sat there. Neither of us shuffled our feet or looked over our shoulders. We just sat there and, for some reason, it was one of the best moments I ever had.

Life never allows beautiful moments like that to last very long and serenity was allowed to encircle us until the click of the porch door drew both of us back into reality. John glanced at me with a small smile. His smile said everything, and again, no words were needed. With a quick, soft kiss, he rose up and steadied me as I joined him before the front door opened. Miraculously, the door wasn't flown back from the wind outside as it usually was. It was carefully steadied against the hands of Ben as he quickly slipped into the hall. John laughed under his breath at both the unpleasant timing and company. He leaned his arm over my waist and stepped down the staircase to lean against the banister.

"You look like you got caught in the wind," John said flippantly. True, Ben's scarf was askew and his gelled hair had been messily undone, but the meaning burned more than an obvious observation.  
"Well that's because I did get caught in the wind, John." Ben smiled smugly and slipped his scarf from his neck. "Hello, Alice. How do you do?"  
"Just fine. Thanks." My response wasn't as well-worded as his greeting. I think John's annoyance for Ben was rubbing off on me; as if I hadn't been agitated with him enough already. Perhaps he wouldn't be so unbearable if he didn't come across as so smug. Another silence fell upon the hallway, but this time it wasn't tranquil.  
"My!" Ben clapped his hands together and my ears winced. "My morning has gone by so fast. I can't believe it's nearly three o' clock already!"  
"What?" I said, bewildered. "I have to work at three!" My shoulders sank. _'Where did all my time go?' _"I better head to the bus stop." I looked up at John with a reluctant shrug. He raised his eyebrows and nodded so I slipped from his grasp and grabbed my jacket from its peg. "Is it still storming outside?"  
"Oh certainly," Ben laughed. "It's picked up even more so than this morning!" My jacket sleeves hung from the crook of my arms as I froze with worry. I did _not_ want to walk to the bus stop in this weather. I could hardly contain my fright of the storm within the safety of a house, how was I supposed to walk two blocks in it?  
"I'll walk you to the bus," John piped up.

"Nonsense. I have my car. I'll drive you." Ben's car was actually a joint property with a couple of his law school friends who had pooled their money for a rusty yet dependable Chevrolet. It had been tiring to hear his endless praise and discreet bragging since the purchase of it, but now his car posed an awkward situation. Driving to the diner _was_ much preferred to walking. John was staring at Ben and I slowly finished tugging my coat over my arms.  
"John, there's no reason you should have to be walking out in this either. I can just get a ride with Ben. It's no big deal." I stepped towards him and rested my hands against his arms. His eyes were still set on Ben. "John," I muttered under my breath. He finally looked down and slowly tugged me to his side after linking his arm around me.  
"Alright," he nodded. "Keep your eyes on the road, Benny-Boy." John grinned. "Don't let them wander..." Suddenly, his grin fell to a smirk then his eyes turned to me. "See ya, love." Then he kissed me with much more passion than necessary for a goodbye. I pushed him away with an awkward laugh. I didn't want to make a scene, but my cheeks were growing warm and I wanted to give John a good smack on the shoulder for the show he just put on.  
"I really appreciate this, Ben," I smiled as he opened the front door for me. It was usually hard to exert politeness to people like him, but I was truly grateful for being saved from the storm.  
"Not a problem," he smiled back. I heard John grunt from the stairs, but I ignored him and walked out the door. The wind was just as rough as it sounded from inside the house and my hair was nice and tangled by the time I got in the car.

We talked pleasantly about the medial topics people are supposed to talk about in these situations such as weather, school, work and anything else that bores you to near death. That is, until we pulled up in front of the diner.  
"Hey, Alice." Ben dropped his hands from the steering wheel and clapped them over his legs.  
"Yes?" I asked hesitantly.  
"What's the deal with your friend?"  
"Excuse me?" The seat of the car rubbed against my jacket as I turned to face Ben and was the only noise other than the rain and wind outside. I hated how quiet it was. It seemed too intimate of a setting to be questioned about my friendships.  
"I'm talking about Dee and you very well know it. You two have both been fawning over me since you've arrived and I'd like to clarify if she's merely a tease or an all-out floozy." My mouth was agape and my brows furrowed.  
"Benjamin Walker, had I not been constantly reminded as a child to think before I act, you would have a bloody nose right now," I snapped. No time was wasted in making my rapid exit, slamming the car door behind me as he snarked something about how sensitive I was. The puddles beneath my stomps kicked up flicks of rain behind me, but I paid no mind. I was fuming. Not many things got my temper burning, but oblivious misconceptions mixed with blatant insults both personally and directly to the best friend I ever had? Oh yes. One could certainly say that got my temper going. My temper did have a vein of reason so I bit my tongue in my cheek as I walked through the front of the diner. A stomping mad employee wouldn't be a good sight for guests.

The apron which was neatly hung up on its peg was tugged over my head and my hands fumbled impatiently with the back strings. Once again, the strings fell out of my hand mid-bow and I stomped my foot down like a bratty child - which was a very embarrassing moment for Sharon to walk in.

"Need some help...?" Her sympathetic laugh and warm smile was the norm of what I had witnessed of her these past couple of weeks. Not since her catty comments from weeks ago had she shown any sign of resentment towards me. There was a reason I could never trust girls like her. Someone who could flick their switch so quickly was not someone to be at ease with. My shoulders dropped with a deep sigh and an embarrassed grin.  
"Sorry. Just in a bad mood I guess."  
"Aw, poor Alice did you have another fight with your _boyfriend_?" There it was. I was waiting for her ugly side to show again and it finally made its reappearance. The vicious yet sweetly disguised emphasis on boyfriend was a classic for girls like her. A poison apple. Sweet, but deadly.  
"No. Not at all," I smiled.  
"Oh. Well, that's splendid." _'Poison apple tone'_. Sharon roughly tugged the apron strings into an uncomfortably tight bow and clacked her heels off to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight I pulled the bow apart with one tug of a string, spitefully staring off after her.

_'Parading around here wearing heels... Those aren't even policy shoes...'__  
_  
It was insane how much people like Ben and Sharon could bother me. They were just insignificant people in the grand scheme of my story. If I ever wrote a biography, they wouldn't even be worth a mention. Another scour and another scoff then I let it forced myself to let it go. If I really thought about it, the way some people act had nothing to do with me and I shouldn't take any of it personally. So I continued on with my shift, ignoring the nasty looks and vibes from Sharon which had all popped up again without any encouragement. Patience was enough to battle my inner irritation through the dinner rush and straight through to half an hour before closing time when the building fell silent. Gizmo's always went dead after eight o'clock. There was livelier bars downtown which pulled people away from the suburb environment of a liquor-free diner.

Sharon was sitting out front as I prepared myself back room to face her without the disruption of customers. I've done an awful lot of sighing in my life and I sighed once more before stepping into the front room and leaning against the booth she sat at while painting her nails as she did every night.  
"I can't remember the last time someone came in here past eight thirty," I laughed awkwardly.  
"Oh I know!" Sharon groaned and glanced up from her nails to looks at me. "Honestly, I bother Daddy about it all the time. He refuses to close before nine! It's just silly."  
Suddenly all my words escaped me. I couldn't think of one thing to say to her. The whole situation was unnerving and the best I could do was slowly nod my head.

"Alice," Sharon frowned at me, her serious tone catching my attention. "No hard feelings, okay?" Another one of her sickly sweet smiles.  
"Of course not," I smiled back, but my opinion of her didn't budge. Actions speak louder than words and her death glares earlier this evening were yelling quite loudly what she truly thought.  
"Well, look at that!" Sharon pointed her bony finger towards the window to a small group heading for the diner's doors. "Guess they're proving my Daddy right!"  
"That's impeccable timing-" My laugh caught in my throat as soon as the street light shone over the three people heading towards Gizmo's. It was Dee, George, and _John._

My head worriedly snapped towards Sharon who had not yet noticed who this particular company was. If Sharon finding out I was dating John set her on edge, then seeing us together might certainly push her over.


	25. Chapter 25

_*Multiple excuses here* Sorry if this chapter seems sub-par. My muse has been so low lately because I've been so busy. I just can't focus! :( Your guys' reviews help so much though! I would love it if you all could let me know what your favourite part, or parts, from this story have been so far. I love hearing feedback like that and it helps me think of more ideas! :D Read, review and enjoy!_

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"Better go make sure the fridge is still on," I said quickly and forced my steps into a steady tempo. If Sharon knew how anxious I felt about her running into John, she would only use that to her advantage. _'God! Why did there have to be people like this?_'

As soon as the back doors swung behind me, I rested against the kitchen counter and clapped my hands over my cheeks with a long, frustrated groan. I was too much of a child to go out front and face them all. Or maybe I wasn't brave enough. There was always some sort of quality lacking. Nothing was ever _enough._ My hands fell to my sides. I couldn't allow myself to get worked up. My palms were already clammy and my throat felt tight. Any more lamentations questioning my inabilities would set me over the edge. I didn't want to have another episode like I did at my grandpa's funeral…

The distant, over-head doorbell rang and I heard some muffled conversation. It was impossible to decipher. _'Ugh! I should have stayed out there.'_ As I started to feel myself tense up again, someone came waltzing in past the swinging doors. There were no signs of familiar heels clicking.  
"Alice who lives in a palace! Let your hair down, let your hair down!" If John's voice wasn't enough of a giveaway, his greeting would have surely identified him. His entrance was distracting enough that I giggled and forgot to worry over Sharon for a moment. John swung around the corner and grinned at me. "Hello."  
"Hello," I repeated with a smile. He strode over quickly and leaned his arms over each side of me, casually resting them on the counter, our proximity very close. John always seemed to assert himself into dominant positions. The reason why, I hadn't quite figured out, but he seemed to enjoy himself.

"I like your uniform," he whispered.  
"You've seen it before." I copied his tone with a mocking grin.  
"Yeah, but that was before we started dating. Now it looks better."  
"That's shallow," I laughed.  
"That's human nature. We like what we own," he shrugged.  
"Excuse me? Whoever said you owned me, Mr. Lennon?"  
"Damn. Out of all the nasty things I've been called, I think Mr. Lennon is the worst."  
"You still didn't answer my question," I said sternly.  
"Listen, if I own you, you get to own me," he grinned. "What do ya wanna do with me, master?"  
"God, you never stop, do you?" I smirked.  
"Nope. I could go all night." He grinned again and I rolled my eyes. "Hey, I haven't gotten my greeting yet. This is awful service." John did his best to impersonate a snooty patron and took a step back from me, looking expectant and unimpressed.  
"Oh… You want a warm welcome?" I dropped the volume of my voice and took a slow step towards John. He broke his focus from his snobby character for a moment then nodded.  
"That's what I expect from an establishment."  
"Okay…" I closed the gap between us and slipped my hands up his chest and around his neck. With my fingertips resting along his teddy boy hair and my tiptoes on point to look into his brown eyes, I resumed my normal tone, with added zeal and spoke the words given to every customer, "Welcome to Gizmo's! How may I help you?"  
"You are such a fucking tease," John grinned and wrapped me into hug so quickly he nearly knocked me over. I giggled and tried to get my feet re-established.  
"Good thing you're holding onto me. You nearly knocked me over," I grinned and exhaled another laugh.  
"Hey now, I knew what I was doing. You forget how strong I am." John smirked then freed his arm to flex it proudly before letting it fall back around my waist with a laugh.  
"Oh, Hercules!" Thankfully John caught me once again as I performed an overly dramatic swoon. As I regained my balance, both of us in a slight fit of laughter, I realized I hadn't worried about Sharon since I saw John. His presence was so calming, even if we were just acting like fools. Our laughter faded as John caught on to my musing mood.  
"What are you thinking about?" He grinned. We both knew that was an cheesy and typical thing to say, but neither of us cared.  
"Just how I kind of like you," I beamed and habit found myself biting my lip back coyly.  
"Only kind of?" John tugged me closer. His eyes darted towards my lips.  
"Maybe a bit more than that." John rested his forehead against mine. A large grin swept across his face.  
"How much more?" He challenged.  
"A lot more," I murmured. As soon as I closed my eyes, I felt his lips against mine. So many of his kisses were charged with energy which made kisses like this so special – gentle and slow. When he pulled away, we both smiled. This was the kind of moment that would have made me nauseous when I was younger. Funny how quickly tables turned because I felt pretty good right then.

"I want to go say hello to Dee and George."  
"Oh, forget 'em!" He smirked.  
"You were the one who came along with them! Let's go," I laughed and grabbed him by the hand, leading us out to the front and over to the table George and Dee had been seated. They were both talking to Sharon. I took a deep breath and carried on towards them, catching the end of a conversation. At least my timing wasn't too bad.  
"I had no idea all of you were going to stop by tonight!" I smiled brightly at the both of them, wondering how all three had managed to group up. Seemed like an odd trio to me.  
"Aren't you glad we did?" Dee beamed conceitedly and we both laughed.  
"Ecstatic," I grinned.

"I'll go get those Coke's for you. John, you want one?' Sharon smiled sweetly towards John who nodded with a quick shrug. My eyes were sharpened to filter any uncomfortable behavior between those two. It felt foolish. I never wanted to play the part of jealous girlfriend, but Sharon had gone farther with John than I'd ever been ready for; and if the boys back in high school were any reference, I had good reason to keep a look out.  
"Come sit!" Dee patted the empty seat on the booth next to her and I slid in as John joined George on the other side. "Is that _the_ Sharon" She muttered under her breath.  
"Yes… That's her." The back of my neck began to feel a bit warm. Really, the only reason I had found any bad blood with her was because of her history with John. A history that didn't seem quite finished through Sharon's eyes.  
"She's awful," George piped up. "She's like a chocolate-dipped prune." We all laughed at his commentary and I nodded. It was an apt description.

It seemed Sharon knew she was the subject of conversation in her absence because she rushed back with the Coke's in record time. She passed them out then pulled up a chair.  
"So did you all plan on coming here to visit us?" Her tone was still pleasant, but her choice of words aggravated me. _'They didn't come here to visit __us__. They came here to visit __me_.'My train of thought held nothing but nasty, possessive and annoyed comments. If I didn't want to start feeling like an immature, insecure child then I'd have to hold them at bay.  
"Not at first. John and I were walking, then we ran into Dee. It was her who thought we should drop by. And of course John was all for the idea." George grinned crookedly, as he always did, and John punched him in the shoulder.  
"You wanted to come too, bastard," He laughed.  
"Yeah, but not so I could make out in the back room," he teased with a taunting chuckle. My cheeks went red, I could feel the warmth tingle over them. The side of my body facing Sharon felt very warm, my eyes were too nervous to sneak a glance at her expression.  
"Well I'm glad you all stopped by! It's nice to see you again, boys," Sharon smiled and my gut churned. "And it's so nice to meet you, Dee!"  
"Mm…" Dee nodded slowly. "Alice has told me all about you."  
"Good things I hope!" Sharon looked over our faces as she laughed, acting the role of the sweet, funny, social butterfly she tried so hard to portray.  
"I would hope so too," Dee smiled and I nearly started laughing. Dee was fearless. Reputations and outsider's opinions meant nothing to her. George and John, on the other hand, had less control and snorted.  
"Somebody get the catnip…" John murmured. The boys laughed again while us three girls were frozen in awkward silence. Although Dee, as usual, had a calm, confident composure.  
"I heard Brigitte Bardot is filming her next movie in Paris right now." Sharon changed the topic swiftly. "This one is going to be all in French too. Better study up, boys."  
"Who cares about dialogue?" John smirked. I scowled. George laughed.  
"Can't remember a single line from the English films," George spoke quietly and grinned.  
"Oh goodness. Are you still obsessed with Brigitte Bardot, John? How silly!" Sharon leaned her elbow on the counter and looked at John. I tucked my feet under the booth and bit my cheek. "No wonder you're dating Alice. She's blonde," she laughed. With that, my eyes darted towards the table and my hands nervously cupped over my knees.  
"Alice could be bald for all I care," he laughed. I glanced up to see him smiling at me and I couldn't help but mirror it. "Please don't shave your head though, dear," he winked.  
"I think that would get awfully cold during the winter," I agreed and everyone laughed - except for Sharon.

For the next few minutes of conversation, Sharon stayed quiet. Only piping up when she could make use of her knowledge of art and literature – two things that only Londoners knew, apparently. At least that's how she carried on about it.

As soon as Sharon noticed the clock read five after nine, she stood up and brushed off her apron.  
"Well! It's time to close up shop. We can't have another episode like we did last summer. Remember, John?" My heart dropped to my stomach. Why was she so intent on rekindling whatever sort of off-colour romance she might have had with John?  
"I dunno what you're talking about," he shrugged, but I could tell from his tone that he could recall what she was referencing which only made his denial worse.  
"Yes you do, silly! How could you forget? It was so much fun! Oh anyways, drinks are on the house this time."  
"Thank you," George saluted and followed John out of the booth. "I'll wait for all of you outside. Bye, bye." He waved once towards Sharon then headed towards the door.  
"See you later, George!" She smiled sweetly, her head cocked to one side.  
"Sure." George waved lazily once more then slipped out the door.  
"It was nice catching up with you again, John… And it was a pleasure to meet you, Dee! You should all come around more often. Paul comes in here all the time and chats with Sherry."  
"He does?" I asked, confused.  
"Oh yeah. They get along really well." I laughed at the image of those two chatting together. It was an amusing friendship to picture.

"Did you know in Tibet, they never allow goodbye's to last more than five minutes because it brings bad luck?" Dee cited. Sharon looked annoyed, but John and I were impressed.  
"Really?" John chuckled. "That's a good rule. See you." He nodded to Sharon then walked over to me and swung his arm around my shoulders.  
"I just have to grab my bag from the back room."  
"Run," he grinned. I made a point to loudly slam my shoes against the floor as I sped over to the swinging doors. Although I dropped the over pronounced steps of running, I still kept up my speed and slid over to the locker, grabbed my bag, and ran back, slowing my pace before returning to the group. I didn't leave any time for Sharon to bring up any more awkward memories.

We each said another goodbye once more then met George out on the street where it had grown a bit warm.  
"Mm. It smells like rain," I smiled.  
"Oh, so now you're not afraid of the big bad sky?" John teased.  
"You're mean."  
"Scaredy-cat."  
"Is this what you two do all day? Tease each other?" George shoved John's shoulder and he swatted him away.  
"No," John replied blankly. "We do much nicer things than that." John looked away from the others to pull a silly face for me. I giggled and he wrapped his arm back around me.

Our walk home was leisurely. Each of us loved the warm weather and the fresh smell of rain. It was moments like these I cherished the most. Growing up, I always thought birthdays and big events were going to be the memories that stuck with me the most, but most of those were ruined by stress and too great of expectations. Walking in nice weather with good friends happened naturally. There wasn't any schedule or plans. We did just as we pleased which was to walk, talk and laugh.

We strolled right past the bus stop and all the way to Mendips. It was closer to ten o'clock by the time we reached the front gate.  
"I forgot to take the turn home," George remembered audibly. A moment's silent passed, Dee and I wondering if he was bothered or not. Then we all broke into a fit of laughter.  
"Poor George. Go on home, boy. Go on home!" John ruffled his friend's hair and George smacked him on the back, trying to shove him off.  
"That's what I'd do if you'd let me free," he grinned. John pushed him away with a laugh.  
"There. You've got your freedom. What are you going to do with it, George?"  
"Get away from you for starters," he smirked. "Goodnight, girls!" He waved, this time more enthusiastically than when he was saying farewell to Sharon.  
"Goodnight George!" Dee and I bid our salutation in unison and giggled.  
"Copycat," she smirked.  
"Scaredy-cat and copycat? Should I start growing whiskers?" I heard John laugh behind me and I grinned.  
"Just as long as you don't scratch up the furniture," Dee snickered as she unlatched the gate. "I'm headed in too. Toodaloo!" She waved her fingers and mocked the sickeningly sweet smile Sharon had been wearing all night.  
"Dee, you made up that Tibetan goodbye bit, didn't you?" I squinted at her.  
"Let's just say I can point out Tibet on a map…and I don't know much else about the it," She beamed mischievously and skipped inside, leaving John and I chuckling at the gate.  
"I like her," John nodded off after Dee with an amused smile.  
"Me too." I always felt so proud of Dee. It was an odd feeling. Maybe I was thankful she had chosen to be my friend all these years.  
"Wanna go sit in the garden for a bit?"  
"Sure," I smiled. I had learned that backyard to Americans was 'garden' to the British. I still had a lot of lingo to catch onto, but I was slowly starting to dip my toes into the realm of British culture.

John took my hand in his and led us round the house and towards two open patio loungers.  
"They look soaked!" I frowned.  
"They're not that bad…" John leaned into the chair and laughed. "Okay. You were right. Pretty damp…and cold. But I can handle it. Come 'ere." He patted his knee. "This is dry."  
I bit my top lip, hesitating a moment, then perched myself onto John's lap. He felt so warm and comfortable that I snuggled into him, both of us leaned back and gazed up at the cloudy sky. His hand rested against my head and his fingers trailed across my hair. I could feel a few goose bumps run underneath my uniform.  
"You smell nice. And you're soft." John paused then laughed under his breath. A mad blush darted into my cheeks, but a big smile crept across my lips.  
"You feel cozy," I whispered. I couldn't help but giggle softly too as I rested my head against his chest.  
"Alice, I really hope Sharon didn't bother you tonight. She's just – I don't know…"  
"Don't worry about it. Honestly, she always bothers me a bit," I laughed again quietly. "You make me feel better though."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah," I looked at John to see him with a slight smile. His eyes were set on the darkening sky, his expression content. When we made eye contact, he craned his neck down for a kiss. Again, he felt soft and gentle. I was starting to see that side of him more and more often.  
"Do you want to make a pact?" He murmured into my ear. I breathed a short giggle then whispered back,  
"What's the pact?"  
"To lie here forever and never do anything else," he grinned.  
"Okay," I whispered back with a slight grin. We felt like two children in a tree house making plans to build a spaceship.

For the next half hour we laid there in near silence except for pointing out the colours of the sky that caught our fancy and calling out the first stars that began to appear. By the time we had counted out our fifth star, my eyelids began to feel heavy. My head was rested, again, on John's chest and his steady heartbeat lulled me half-asleep. He stroked my hair softly and I barely noticed him sweetly kiss my head. My eyes fell closed and my corners of my lips lifted.

His chest slowly heaved and my head followed the lift of each breath. The last thing I recalled before drifting off was his kiss and his warm hand resting against my back. My shoes that I had pulled off earlier lay in the grass and my toes dipped off the chair and into the delicate, green lawn. Drops of moisture from the earlier rain caught against my bare feet and a swirl of warm wind carried over the blades of grass. Falling asleep under the stars, against John made our pact seem like reality – and it was lovely.


	26. Chapter 26

_I split chapters into two parts very often. Oh well. I'm already working on the next part! I hope this chapter turned out well. I've been working a lot these past couple of weeks and it's hard to find my muse when I'm constantly interrupted by life. Life interrupts my life more than anything else. Anyway - read, review and enjoy! And thank you all for being patient and lovely._

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The warm breeze I fell asleep to made its return to glide over my back, bringing my lashes to a fluttering open and my attention to a slight kink in my neck... And in my shoulder. Lawn chairs were definitely not cut out for sleeping. With a deep breath, I rolled off of John's chest to rest my head against his shoulder. He was still fast asleep.

Watching someone in their sleeping state was nearly like peering into their soul. There weren't thousands of words running through their mind or ideas, plans, complaints, worries, hopes, fright, sadness. Perhaps sleep was actually very boring, but it was different with someone you cared for. John's body was running itself without troubling him. It was his sole duty to sit there and dream. As long as he was dreaming, his heart would beat and his lungs would fill with the fresh morning air. All that was truly left to watch was his peaceful face - and to wonder about what was passing through his uninhibited mind.

It took me a moment to get to the latter. His peaceful expression held my attention. It was rare to see someone so relaxed when everything in the world, or my world at least, seemed to move so fast. Time always seemed to slow its pace when I was with John. As if the hands of the clock took their time traveling to each number out of respect for us. Out of respect for each smile or warm, bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach. The clock slowed for each blush and each kiss. The clock altogether halted as I watched John's lashes flicker over his closed lids. His hand slipped over my arm and down to rest against my hand and my toes felt warm. I had just been thinking to myself how someone fast asleep may only have awareness in their dreams, but here he was with his arm around me. I smiled.

My stomach was feeling awfully empty and the stiffness in my joints weren't going unnoticed, but I lied there for what felt like another hour. I didn't want to move. _'The pact'_ I kept thinking. I wanted to keep the pact.

A reluctant yawn stretched out to John's arms as he finally joined the land of the living. I felt his legs tense as he stretched them out, as well as his arm still rested along my side. My toes felt warm again.  
"Has it been forever yet?" John smirked and looked at his wrist, intently checking the time of his invisible watch.  
"If it has, I might need a couple more infinities," I laughed under my breath and stretched my feet out next to John's.  
"I don't think I'm ready to break the pact." I could hear the grin through his voice. I glanced up at him to see just what I imagined.  
"Me neither."  
"See that?" John pointed towards the house.  
"Of course," I giggled.  
"That's the real world. You see this?" He gestured around the garden.  
"Mhmm..."  
"This is our world," he said.  
"Which world do you like better?" I knew the answer.  
"Which world has you in it?" I looked up again to catch a grin, but there was only a faint smile. John's cheeky grins could really make me blush, but nothing made my cheeks redder than his soft, serious eyes because I always knew what followed.  
"What time do you suppose it is?" John shimmied down the chair to level his eyes with mine, even though his legs dangled right off the edge and my feet only grazed against the lawn.  
"Time to get a watch," I grinned, pulling off the most sinister look I could manage.  
"Time to think of better jokes," he groaned.  
"I bet it's seven o' clock in the morning."  
"What makes you think that?" John chuckled quietly with an amused smile.  
"Well people without the time always assume the morning is very late because they don't want to waste their time, but it's just an overshot guess everytime."  
"Why does lying in bed have to be a waste of time?" he mused. "People are so afraid of wasting time that they'll meet up with friends that annoy them and complete chores that tire them out to please someone else and pick up hobbies to impress strangers. When, really, their time would be much better spent resting peacefully in bed." John paused. "But you don't think you're wasting your time if you think it's so early."  
"Because I'm not wasting my time," I replied with a quick smile.  
"Why not?" he challenged.  
"Because I don't want to meet up with annoying friends, work on tiring chores to please someone, and do hobbies for strangers," I grinned and so did John. "My time is much better spent here. The air is fresh and the company isn't too bad."  
"If you do so say yourself," he scoffed with a good-natured twinkle in his eye.  
"I do so say myself."  
"I do see saw sayself." John blinked rapidly and pulled his classic face of humor. His eyelids drawn halfway down, his lips bitten back and his eyebrows quirked upwards. If there was anything John loved more than words, it was playing around with them. I laughed into his leather jacket with an amused scoff that rightfully portrayed the eye roll he couldn't see.

A rattle from the open kitchen window got both of our attentions as we glanced, in unison, towards 'the real world'. Its boundaries were closing in on ours and I could feel our veil of limitless time being lifted.  
"Mimi's up," he sighed.  
"She won't be pleased if she finds out we slept out here all night." I couldn't help but giggle. Either at imagining Mrs. Smith's horror or the simple fact we had, indeed, slept under the stars the entire night through.  
"Then she won't find out," John smirked mischievously. "You're light on your feet, right?"  
"Mm... I suppose," I answered hesitantly.  
"Alright. Sneak up to your room then head down to the kitchen. Then you can act as if you were in your proper bed all night."  
"And what about you?"  
"I'll think of something. Now off to bed, Alice." John winked, a habit I suppose he'd picked up from Paul, then leaped off the lawn chair to extend a hand.  
"Goodnight, John," I beamed then took his hand as he helped me up to stand on my feet, close in front of him.  
"Goodnight, Alice," he grinned quickly then closed the gap between us with a gentle tug, finishing with a kiss while he began slowly backing away. His fingers brushed across my cheek before he pulled away with a bright smile and twinkling eyes. He held his finger up to his lips then sprinted out of the yard, as if quick timing was a factor in our ruse. I stifled my giggle then grabbed my shoes and pattered quietly towards the front door. As soon as I heard another pan bang in the kitchen, I twisted the knob open and slipped inside. My heart was racing as I prayed the door would shut silently behind me. A faint click set me fleeting up the stairs, my shoes hanging from my fingers and a rush of adrenaline bouncing around my chest. Mrs. Smith had successfully been avoided.

Dee, however, was an unavoidable obstacle.  
"Where were you, young lady?"  
"In the backyard." A silly grin broke my composure. I felt like a character from one of the books I loved to read. Sleeping under the stars, feeling loved, being spontaneous, mischievous and free. It's exactly the feelings I had hoped for back in my bedroom in Montana. The world seemed much bigger of a place and I didn't mind it one bit.  
"Are you still a virgin?" Dee's mouth curved upwards in a teasing, devilish smirk.  
"Oh my god! _Dee_!" I laughed and clapped my hand over my mouth. My laugh was shaky with embarrassment.  
"I'll take that as a yes," she grinned as she looked over my shamed reaction. "Don't tell me that 'situation' hasn't ever crossed your mind, though.  
"Well, I suppose..." The only thoughts I had towards it had been hesitancy and dread. Except for when I felt his arms around me... The idea had never seemed so awful then. "But I need to wait. Until. Well. I don't know! Dee, it's too early in the morning for this."  
"Calm down," she laughed. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't making you feel pressured about it."  
"You sound like a high school guidance counselor," I teased.  
"I sound like a good friend!" Dee protested. "You little slut," she muttered, trying to suppress the grin that finally broke loose along with our laughter.  
"You're merciless." I shoved her shoulder before I left the room with a change of clothes, both of us giggling as I headed into the hall. I got changed and ready for the morning as quickly as I could. I didn't want to miss John's performance when he walked in the door. As soon as I had brushed my hair through, I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen to meet Mrs. Smith.

"You needn't slam your feet against the steps so loudly. No one ordered a wakeup call." She spoke plainly as she pulled a roasting pan from the oven.  
"Right," I grinned. "Good morning." She glanced towards me with a doubtful expression, probably questioning my resilient mood.  
"Good morning," she replied. The front door whipped open then slammed shut. I took a seat at the small table in the corner and pressed my hands together. Loud footsteps sprung down the hall...then past the dining room... Finally John entered the kitchen with a newspaper tucked under his arm and a cheery smile plastered onto his face that made him look like he was auditioning for the role of Benjamin Walker.

"Good morning, Mimi!"  
"Apparently it is." She cocked her eyebrow and darted her eyes between John and I. "Where were you?"  
"Getting the paper." He tossed the newspaper onto the counter in front of her with a smug flick of his hand.  
"Put it on the table, John. I'm trying to make breakfast." John plucked the paper from the counter and slowly swerved towards the table, looking as unimpressed as he could manage. He plopped it to his side as he leaned into the chair across from mine, watching the headlines slide across the table. He grinned at me and I eagerly grinned back. Our trail had been successfully swept up behind us though Mrs. Smith seemed less than assured. Her suspicions were rooted and growing steadily, but I couldn't figure out if it was either John or I she didn't trust – or perhaps both. Sometimes I wasn't even sure if she knew we were dating. Although she was surely very good at digging out the truth. I felt a kick of nerves in my stomach as I realized both this and the fact we were all about to eat breakfast together. It was one of the few meals I had eaten with John in the presence of his Auntie, but this scenario was much more intimate. It was only us three and the food laid out before us.

English breakfasts were much more significant than the bowl of cereal I was used to back home. This Saturday morning was toast, ham, eggs, tea and biscuits. There were always biscuits – not crumpets as my father insisted. I decorated my plate with a small pink slab of ham and a golden brown biscuit, still warm from the oven and emitting a pleasant, cozy aroma.

"That's a very empty looking plate, Alice," Mrs. Smith commented. "You're awfully skinny."  
"Oh," I smiled nervously. "I suppose I'm not very hungry. Although I could easily stuff myself silly with this spread. It all looks delicious."

Aunt Mimi quickly flashed a satisfied smirk then nodded once, slowly. "Thank you," she said quietly. We talked very little throughout the entire meal, but I felt more at ease with Mimi than I had before. It was a long process to get on her good side, but I tried very hard to stay on the right path. Afterwards, John sprinted off with some excuse, perfectly timed to the beginning of breakfast clean-up. Silence and clanking dishes were the only sounds in the air until Mrs. Smith and I were side by side at the sink.  
"Is John behaving himself with you?" She asked without eye contact. I slipped my drying towel over the porcelain bowl in small, absent-minded circles then altogether halted at her unexpected concern.  
"Oh. Well, yes. He's very…" I wasn't sure where I expected that sentence to lead. What was he _very_ of? _'Special, handsome, talented, smart.'_ "Kind."  
"I'm glad you think so. John is very strong-willed, but he's a _good_ young man." Mimi nodded determinedly, as if she was trying to convince me of what I already believed.  
"Yes he is," I agreed softly.  
"He acts too silly about his affections for you, but you'll do him good," she stated.  
"Thank you." My voice was hesitant being that the first half of her matter-of-fact commentary seemed unfavorable, but my lips were magnet to a huge, unshakeable smile. My relationship with Mimi seemed to be leaping bounds compared to our first few rigid encounters.

We finished cleaning in silence then I excused myself to my room, leaping bounds up the stairs as quietly as I could manage.  
"Dee! Guess what Mrs. Smi-" I barged into my room to see John sitting on my bed across from Dee. "I thought you left to meet up with a friend."  
"I've been here the whole time. I just didn't want any part in chores," he shrugged, trying to hide his grin. I scoffed and sat next to him, shoving my side into his disapprovingly. He didn't budge at all and I scoffed again.  
"Weakling," he chuckled.  
"Slouch."  
"Goody two shoes."  
"Evil three gloves." I attempted a sneer, but all three of us cracked up.  
"Evil three gloves?" John repeated through chuckles.  
"It's the opposite of goody two shoes." My laughter wasn't doing my defense any favors. "I stand by it."  
"It was brilliant, Alice," Dee grinned. "John, tell her what you told me about tonight." Our laughter faded and I looked towards John expectantly.  
"I have a surprise. Both of you dress up for ten o' clock and sneak out to the backyard. I'm gonna meet you there."  
"And take us… where?" I asked.  
"That's the surprise," he groaned.  
"Alright, alright," I giggled. "Ten o' clock. I'll be there."


	27. Chapter 27

_I think it's safe to say that this is no longer just a fanfiction, but rather a full blown novel. Haha! Thank you all for your patience and I hope I haven't lost any of your interest. This is my longest chapter yet and an important turning point for Alice. Read, review and enjoy. You're all fantastic!_

P.S. I didn't read this one over and edit it as much as I do with others being that I'm camping right now and don't have constant internet access, so some sections might seem choppy or off. The majority has been re-read and edited to my liking though so I hope I haven't left behind any confusing sentences. :) 

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The air was thick with humidity and a gentle warm wind, causing a slight frizz to my hair while Dee and I slipped into our nicest summer dresses. Mine was a loose, floral frock that my mother had purchased for me before I left for Liverpool. The weekend before graduation, she had come home with bags full of new clothes. I wasn't sure what I was I was going to do with my new wardrobe until now. Had I anticipated the active social life I was going to have here, I would have thanked her a little more enthusiastically. Mother always knows best.

A cream shirt-dress fit snugly around Dee's tan skin and served a perfect contrast to her dark brown hair. I always held a bit of awe for how well Dee could pull off any article of clothing. If she could ever be convinced to do so, I was sure she would make a breathtaking model. There was an aspect of her personality that had always stood out from her radical nature and that was her interest in fashion. The obstacle she enjoyed tacking most was conforming to trends with a rebellious, original twist - as she executed once again after a thoughtful survey of my dress.

"That dress is loose. You need a belt." Dee whipped a chestnut belt from her drawer and cinched it onto my waist, her fingers moving nimbly despite their bulkiness. "Now you're ready for a magazine," she smiled then pulled my collar back to completely flatten it, leaving both my shoulders and chest more exposed. "And now you're ready for some fun." This time she grinned widely and I couldn't help but catch her infectious excitement even though my stomach began to feel funny from both anticipation and anxiousness.  
"I wonder where John is taking us." I pressed my thumb against each nail, intently watching the pressure turn each fingernail white, then watching it fade back to its slight pink hue. It was the only calming distraction I had access to.  
"He'll want to pull you into a dark alley when he sees you in that dress," Dee snorted. If there was one thing my mother didn't approve of when it came to my best friend, it was her laugh. 'Not ladylike at all,' she would chastise. True, Dee's giggles and guffaws were either loud or plainly came out in an amused grunt, but it certainly never got on my nerves. Her sweet, round face made each boyish howl all the more entertaining.  
"It's just a plain dress," I blushed.  
"Don't get your cheeks all heated already," she groaned. "John will go nuts if he sees your cherry choppers in the moonlight."  
I laughed under my breath at her antiquated expression, but the warmth in my face was being fed by her flippant, awkward comments. "You're making me out to be much better looking than I actually am."  
"Psh." Another snort. "You've always been good looking, Alice. And John is just sex trapped in a young man's body. He thinks with his penis," she said breezily as she smoothed out her dress.  
"Deanna Anderson!" My eyes were wide and my mouth was agape, but a ludicrous, shocked laugh bubbled forth over my horror. "Has Liverpool made you even more brash?"  
"_Nooo_," she drew out. "You're just noticing it more than ever now that I'm teasing your boyfriend."  
"You milk way too much enjoyment from this," I grimaced.  
"Why yes I do!" With a proud grin she twirled back towards me, in perfect timing with the chime of the clock. "Ten o'clock." Our voices were instantly lowered to whispers.  
"Let's go." My voice was so quiet, the words hardly squeaked past my lips. My stomach performed its usual flip flops as we creaked our door open and slowly crept down the stairs with big, careful steps. We didn't dare look at each other lest we burst into giggles. I swore the fast beating of my heart could have woken up Mrs. Smith as we snuck past her room. My palms were moist with sweat by the time we had finally reached the back door. I stepped back as Dee worked her magic, slowly twisting the door knob open with silent perfection.

Our sighs of relief mixed with the warm summer air and we glanced in unison at each other with sparkling eyes and toothy grins. We hardly had a moment to relish in our successful escape before George stepped forward onto the patio with a clearing of his throat.  
"Hello," he nodded with a friendly smile.  
"Hi, George!" My excitement added a bit too much volume to my greeting and it was met with an instant grimace from our small group. "Whoops."  
George laughed, but had the foresight to do so quietly. "I'm your escort to the surprise."  
"Can't you tell us what the surprise is?" Dee's shoulders slumped forward with a humorously whining tone. My shoulders slumped down as well, but for a different reason. I thought I was going to step into the backyard to see John in all his mischievous glory. It wasn't until now I realized how much I anticipated seeing him… After what Dee said, I was dangerously curious about his thoughts on my dress. His ravished looks always made me uneasy, but I had begun expecting them. With how much creative control I let Dee have with my outfit, I suppose I was promoting that tempted look in his eyes. I had never known what it was like to be desired, but it certainly was flattering – and intimidating – and exciting.  
"Nope." George's voice ended my quick succession of thoughts. "I promised John I wouldn't reveal anything. He said that he likes seeing you flustered." George's eyes flickered towards me with an amused smirk and, as usual, I blushed.

John's faithful apprentice led us through the streets of Liverpool until we reached the corner of a high-income row of houses.  
"These are beautiful homes." My eyes gazed over the detailing of each, individual house, sparked with each owner's specific style.  
"They were built a few years back. My dad said this used to be an awful neighbourhood, but the bombs wiped it out and it was replaced with these fancy lots." With a thumb thrown over his shoulder, George continued fiddling with the pocket knife in his hands, occasionally glancing upwards towards the street behind us. "Look who finally showed up!"  
All three of our heads peered towards the alley from which John emerged with a sack slung over his shoulder.  
"I'm not late. You're just early," John quipped.  
"Do you have the eggs?" George asked, his expression blank despite the odd questions.  
"Yup."  
"And the bottle of wine?"  
"'Course I do."  
"What in the world are we doing tonight?" I laughed and tucked my arms against my chest. The sluggish, stuffy wind was beginning to chill and I hadn't thought to bring a jacket. John's soulful, chestnut eyes pierced through the distance between us and I felt it down to my toes. A shiver ran across my spine. I couldn't be more than a blurry outline in his poor vision, but his stares were always crystal clear.  
"Uncross your arms." John leaned his arm over the fence beside him after taking a step closer towards me. I did as he told. "Twirl," he grinned and motioned with his fingers. With an embarrassed laugh and a roll of my eyes, I spun on my heel slowly. My mocking smirk met his thoughtful smile and I heard Dee giggle beside me.  
"Yes, she looks great. Now can we please go?" She smiled and bounced on her heel impatiently. It was never a good idea to make Dee wait.  
"Lead the way!" My gesture forwards set George down the street after taking the sack of mysterious items from John. Dee skipped ahead to walk next to him, bursting with the excitement of memories to be made. The mystery and spontaneity of this event was right up her alley. Meanwhile I was still feeling apprehensive. I watched both my friends, one old one new, walk in tandem while I stayed frozen in place. My feet wanted to move forwards, but the night felt so perfectly vibrant one more step might shatter the whole scene. Not to mention what lay ahead might be as intimidating as I was imagining. I felt John wrap his arm around my waist, slowly linking his other hand behind me and pulling us close towards each other.  
"Hi," I smiled.  
"Hello." Without a smirk, grin, or any of his usual expressions, he leaned in for a kiss. Each kiss seemed better than the last. There was always more feeling, more life circling through the air. My qualms towards tonight were instantly washed away. What was there to worry with John by my side?  
"Come on." He trailed his fingers off my hips then swung his arm around my shoulders, keeping my hand gripped in his. Excitement replaced fear and confidence replaced hesitation. I had decided tonight would be fun and it would be freeing. I was determined to live that out.

We approached a house on the end of the block, lights shone through the curtained windows and muffled music became audible as we walked up the front steps. The estate's liveliness stood out considerably from the darkened, quiet houses which neighbored our party destination. Neither John nor George had even mentioned the surprise was a party, but I was helping myself to informed deductions being that both refused to give any further information. Although I was still stumped. I wasn't ungrateful for the planned event, but John had seemed so enthusiastic for his 'surprise'. Was there anything more up his sleeve or had I not yet caught the party bug?

Without a knock, John swung the door open to a finely decorated hallway. The main entry was barren of the lively scene the house boasted outside.  
"Where is everyone?" I wondered aloud. John simply laughed and sauntered forth past the stairs. Dee and I followed our leaders, both of us equally confused, but thanks to John's re-assuring presence, both equally excited. The music got louder and louder. With another dramatic swing of the door, which John seemed to enjoy today, the melodies of Jerry Lee Lewis burst forth in perfect clarity from the basement which hid all party-goers. The lights were dim, but colorful bulbs were strewn across sofas and tables. They looked to be Christmas lights, still dusty from wherever they were dug out from. Lining the walls were those holding conversation and cups in their hand. The middle of the room waved with dancing motions of all kinds. A young man appeared at the bottom of the stairs nearly instantly as we arrived.

"You know the drill!" The dark-haired, tall boy stuck his hand forwards for the bag George was already stretching towards him. With a quick peer into its contents, he waved us forwards into the bursting room of elated guests.  
I smiled and nodded quickly at whom I guessed might be the host and stuck closely to John as he led us towards a corner of the room.  
"Why did you give him eggs and wine?" I hollered over the music with an impatient laugh. John grinned.  
"That's the surprise. We're gonna be here all night." He paused and waited for my reaction, but my expression was blank. "Alice! It's an all-night party. Wine is for tonight. Eggs are for breakfast in the morning."  
"We have all night here?" I gazed at the room around me - people laughing, squealing. All of them hidden away from the world in a crammed basement full of teens and loud rock and roll music.  
"What do ya think of that?"  
My sparkling eyes turned back towards John. "I think it's brilliant."  
His grin widened, making the creases along his cheeks stand out and making him look very handsome. His thick eyebrows were turned upwards against the line of bright Christmas lights above him, but his eyes beautifully reflected the glints of their colour.  
I took a step closer towards him and lowered my voice. "You look very handsome." John also took a step closer.  
"You look very beautiful."  
"I love this surprise."  
"I love y-"  
"John!" A booming voice from across the room interrupted John's reply. There were very few times I ever wanted to give someone a good smacking, but the man who was walking over to us right now sparked an irritated flame. Was John really going to say what I thought he was? _'Of course not, silly. He was about to say something along the lines of, 'I love… your dress'.'_ My brain reckoned reasonably, but my pounding heart relentlessly reminded me of the groggy John who had muttered those words at his most vulnerable. My mind was so ablaze I hardly heard the introduction to 'Thomas, Who We Call Tom, and is From Art School.' Thomas Who We Call Tom and is From Art School wasn't making a good first impression.

"Can't believe you hooked this wild fish!" Tom clapped his classmate on the back with a hearty laugh. "Maybe he'll be better behaved with the right girl checking up on him."  
"Yes," I nodded. "Maybe someday when he finds the right girl..." I giggled, but John snorted his disagreement.  
"Last time I checked, I didn't have the left girl… Or the up girl. Or the down girl." We shared an amused and affectionate look that isolated unassuming Tom From Art School.  
"Well," Tom drew out with a bright smile and awkward sigh. "I'll leave the love birds to their nest." He raised his eyebrows and laughed as he glanced between us.  
"Go drink some more, Tom," John snickered. "You're better drunk than sober."  
"I'll drink up all the liquor before you can get to it. He's a mean drunk, Alice. Look out!" He laughed loudly again then made his way off with a quick salute and an annoyed nudge from John.

"I wonder what kind of drunk you are," John mused while he studied my face with his squinted eyes and troublesome smirk.  
"Oh no. No, no, no. I'm waiting until it's legal." I crossed my arms and stuck my nose in the air to make him laugh.  
"But, Alice…" he paused. "It is legal." I recalled the night he had told me that drinking laws were much more lenient here in England and suddenly I felt very aware of all the liquor surrounding me. Everyone had a cup in their hand. Everyone was laughing and seemed very giddy which seemed like excitement when I first entered the basement, but was slowly being unmasked to the buzz it actually was.  
"I don't know…"  
"Come on. Just try one."  
"Only one?" I grimaced.  
"Only one. That's all I ask."  
I had seen the effects of alcohol remove inhibitions and remold personalities. There was a completely different world stretched out in front of me and I felt very lost.  
"Okay," I finally nodded with a shrug. Without another word, John made his way through the crowd and over to the beverage table. He was back in a flash, before I had time to change my mind.  
"I'm just overthinking this," I thought aloud. "It's just…alcohol…" The pale yellow liquid swirled around in my cup, the foam being sucked inwards like a whirlpool.  
"You've been overthinking everything since you got here," John laughed. He looked away only to glance once again towards me, my doubt very evident. His warm hand slid over to the small of my back and he leaned in to whisper, "Just let it go, Alice. You don't have to like it. You don't have to have a lot, but you'll drive yourself mad if you trap yourself in a world with small boundaries." His words stuck and rang clearly. I didn't want to trap myself.

I took a gulp from the cup.

As soon as I swallowed, I began coughing and my lips puckered in surprised disgust.  
"Why do people drink this?" My voice resonated enough to turn a few heads – all whom looked amused, but not as amused John.  
"If you drink enough of it, you'll be too drunk to taste it," he shrugged.  
"You're awful!" This time it was a laugh which vibrated through me. There was no way I could already be buzzed, but taking the dive to even try a drink was enthralling. I took another sip. My nose wrinkled.  
"Woah! Take it easy there! Two sips within two minutes? You're gonna get sloshed." John was gaining an upper hand on me with all his teasing. With a determined glare, I stared over my cup as I took another gulp.  
"I can handle my liquor, Lennon." I copied the wink I had seen Paul pull off effortlessly so many times and grinned like John.  
"Jesus Christ. When did you get so cheeky?" He laughed and proudly slung his arm around my shoulders. "I think I ought to show you off now. Come on."

For the next few hours, John led me through the maze of people, stopping to say hello to nearly every face we passed. Each time he introduced me as, "his girlfriend", I smiled harder. Maybe because each introduction was accompanied by another sip from my cup. Its taste hadn't become desirable in the slightest, but it was becoming bearable. Two drinks down and I realized how habitual it had already become to take a casual drink. Pacing myself was an odd custom to get used to. The drink in hand wasn't water or soda, it affected my mental and physical state and I hadn't decided if I was more or less fearful of alcohol than when I first tried it.

My cheeks were sore with all the grinning from introductions. There was no way I was going to remember anyone's name from tonight. As John closed off another quick conversation with yet another acquaintance, a familiar song began to breeze from the turntable speakers in the corner. I looked towards the source of the music, trying to figure out why the song seemed so _significant_. John folded his hand into mine and tugged me close as he rested his arm around my waist. With a smile, he began swaying back and forth to the music.  
"You know what this is?" he asked.  
"Well I know the song, but there's something about it…"  
"It's our song," John whispered gently into my ear and pressed his warm lips against my jaw. I instantly remembered. _The night of the dance._ This was the song playing when John first asked me to dance…when he almost kissed me for the first time and, arguably, when he began melting my utterly resistant heart. I grinned ear to ear and the music seemed to grow louder in my ears.

_'Are you lonesome tonight…'_

"I was lonesome that night." John's eyes glanced down towards mine while he discarded his tough exterior just long enough to send a chill up my spine. He flashed his beautiful grin then kissed me as if we were the only two people in the room. For once, my cheeks didn't blush.  
"Did you miss me that night?" I laughed once he had pulled away, our faces inches apart.  
"Yes," he answered without his grin. "I missed you as soon as I saw you."  
"That doesn't make any sense." I bit my lip back as I smiled with a soft giggle.  
"Yes it does." John left me to ponder while he softly pecked my lips, slowly pulling away. "Alice...?"  
"Yes?" My heartbeat quickened.  
"You're an awful dancer," he laughed under his breath. I couldn't help but crack up even though he broke our moment of sincere intimacy.  
"Am not."  
"Are too. You're hardly moving!"  
"You're the one who taught me to dance!"  
"And I taught you how to kiss, remember?" Of course I remembered. "Still looking for tutors?" he teased.  
With a big smile at the memory, I proudly replied, "Nope. I've graduated."  
John's entire face stretched back into utter amusement. "I'll say." His twinkling eyes were the last thing I saw before closing my own as he leaned in for another kiss.

The hands on the clock wound ahead quickly. Each glance seemed to speed it forwards another hour. One conversation. Elven o'clock. One dance. Twelve o'clock. One drink. One o'clock. One laugh, one smile, one thrilled sensation…_Three o'clock in the morning._ By this time, the party had spread throughout the entire house. Those who were dedicated and full of energy remained in the basement. Those who preferred more focus on party tricks and conversation moved to the main floor. And I hadn't been to the top floor yet, but couples were leading each other up the stairs, hand in hand with widened eyes and dazed endearment. It wasn't too hard to deduce the rest.

John and I sat on a sofa on the main floor while Dee remained stuck to the aura of the basement. Pete Shotton had searched her out and, although he looked deadbeat tired, he continued to keep up with her relentless energy. I had lost sight of George. I hadn't spotted him in the basement or the parlor yet. My eyes rose to the ceiling. _'Could he be…?'_ George had already surprised me with how effective his charm could be on the opposite sex, but his young face always threw me off. Admittedly, I was impressed with his potency.

The night had seen me through to my third beer, halfway drained. Everyone's voices sounded clashed together and there was an unnatural warmth in my stomach. The abnormal feeling was the phenomenon that got my hands clammy with anxiousness. A look towards John settled me down again, but I decided to put aside the last of my drink. Perhaps I took on too much. _'What if I got alcohol poisoning?'_ My eyes widened. I forced myself to look at John.  
"What?" His entertained crack of a smile faded to slight concern.  
"What if I get alcohol poisoning?" I repeated my thoughts.  
"Alice," he laughed. "You're not going to get alcohol poisoning."  
"Ugh," I groaned and clapped my hands over my cheeks. "I feel silly."  
"Or you feel drunk," he laughed.  
"Am I drunk?" My heart rate racked up speed.  
"Not by much."  
"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I rolled my eyes. Honestly, I was thankful to feel that familiar roll of my eyes in my head. That was something I did a lot. I was still me. For some reason, I was sure the liquor would have completely changed all my morals, habits and actions by now.  
"It means you're having a good time." A couple of John's friends laughed. I wasn't sure if they were actually acquaintances or if he had just drawn them in. I gazed at John's profile. His aquiline nose turned down towards his thin, rosy lips. The alcohol running through his system rushed hues of pinks towards his cheeks and his eyes were animated.

John turned towards me with a grin, but soon his expression matched mine. I felt infatuated with him. I couldn't determine which influence of the night was heaving this allure onto me, but it was unshakeable. In the dim lighting, with a crowd surrounded around him, he looked completely irresistible.  
"Follow me." Without a word to those who had been conversing with him, John grabbed my hand and led me towards the stairs. I followed silently up the steps and down the hallway. All the noise we left behind made the muffled sounds from downstairs seem infinitely silent. John led us into a bedroom and closed the door. Each step he took towards me made me feel more isolated from the rest of the party's population. It was just John and I. Everyone and everything else was irrelevant.

Had I noticed I was already sitting on the bed, I would have jumped up and flew downstairs in embarrassed agony, but I was gliding on false courage. John took his last step and leaned into me, his hands pillowing into the mattress and causing it to squeak. Each movement was processed after it transpired. My back had fallen against the soft sheets. John slowly laid himself over me. I felt crushed underneath him, but I couldn't see why I would mind. His hands grazed along my thigh and ruffled my dress too far up my leg. My hands were wrapped around his neck and I moved along with him. Our breaths started growing heavy.

"Alice," he swallowed.  
"Mm…"  
"We can't…I can't…" He sighed with a slight snarl of frustration. "I want to, but it won't be the same afterwards. You've drank a bit and you won't want this in the morning. _You won't want me in the morning._"  
"What do you mean?" John had altogether stopped and pried himself off me by lifting his arms on either side of my head. I wish I hadn't noticed how muscular his tensed biceps looked.  
"You know what I mean."  
"John, I think it's okay. I'll still want you." I lifted my hand to his cheek and pushed myself upwards to give him a kiss of reassurance. His lips felt stiff.  
"Not tonight. I'm going to do this right and this isn't the way." Before I could add to my argument, he rolled off to lie beside me.

We both stared at the ceiling in silence. Neither of us knew what the other was thinking. At least, I was quite sure I was unaware of the thoughts passing through John's mind. I felt stupid. And vulnerable. With each passing second, I rejoiced more that John had stopped us where he did, but each passing second also came with another coating of nauseousness.

"I don't feel well," I finally mumbled. John sat up with a slow sigh and looked at me with a sympathetic yet tickled smile.  
"I was waiting for that to kick in," he chuckled. "I'll get you some water." As I closed my eyes, I felt him quickly squeeze my hand before his heavy footsteps faded down the hallway. My head felt ten pounds heavier than its actual weight and the swirls of afflicted thought weren't helping. All my feelings of anguish and excitement from tonight were rolling together into a humongous ball of unaligned emotion. Is this what made people feel so dizzy when inebriated? Was I even inebriated? I groaned to myself and covered my eyes with my hands, not caring whether my makeup got smudged or not.

"Having a rough night?" A voice laughed from the corner of the room. I sat up quickly…too quickly and grimaced through my blurry vision until I made out a male figure standing in the doorway. He had been talking to John earlier downstairs.  
"No, no…" I mumbled. "I'm fine."  
"Is John screwing you up here?" Another laugh.  
"_No._" My voice was impatient, brazen, and unimpressed yet he still hadn't taken his cue to leave.  
"You're a little tipsy aren't you?" He sniggered.  
"Do you have to laugh after every word you say?"  
"_No._" He copied my annoyed inflection, this time without a laugh. "Come on. Don't be prissy. I'm just having a bit of fun."  
"I'm not having fun. Please leave." With an irritated sigh, I turned my back from him and crossed my arms. There was silence. I thought he had left, but as I turned around to check, I felt someone sit next to me on the mattress.  
"You don't _really_ want me to leave." My eyebrows crumpled in disbelief.  
"What do you think you're doing? Just leave!" The tone in my voice wobbled with worry as it grew in volume. I didn't know who this man was. I didn't even remember his name. The door was partially shut. Who would hear me if I needed help?  
"Don't sound so frightened, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you." He smiled and tried to rub his clunky hand over my back. My instincts instantly pushed him away as I sat up from the bed. Again, my movement was too fast and the edges of my vision were blackened.  
"Don't touch me, please." Moisture started to brim my eyes and I cursed it away with heavy blinks. _'There's nothing to be afraid of. He's just being a jerk. Nothing's going to happen.'_  
"Why not?" A step forwards from him made me stumble back. He advanced until I cornered myself into the wall. "You're acting silly. Come on, I'm not a poacher. You're not a gazelle." He grinned along with his ugly snicker.  
"You're disgusting. And rude. And vulgar and repulsive. _Leave._" My voice cut through the silence and rang through my ears. I watched his eyes grow cold and suddenly my burst of courage sizzled to extinction.  
"You can't talk to a man like that," he snarled. "Have some respect." The resentful and riled prominence in his face slammed his foot down loudly as he dared to take a step closer. My eyes squeezed shut and a shudder held my shoulders rigid.  
"John!" My eyes refused to open to the menacing character before me. Calling John's name was the only reaction I thought of. _'I want John. Where is John. Where's John?'_

Eyes still shut tight, I heard the door swing open to bang against the wall.  
_"What the hell are you doing?"_

George's voice fluttered my eyes open in surprise and relief.  
"We're just talking." The nameless man in front of me took a step back and instantly became defensive in the cockiest way possible.  
"Get out." Everything became muffled. All I could make out was the tone of George's insistent voice and the scoffs of the stranger. I couldn't make out any words. My ears felt hot and my chest felt stretched and tight. Finally, the sound of stomping feet treaded out of the room and George's comforting hand rested on my shoulder. He asked me a question… What was the question?  
"I'm okay." I could only guess one might first ask another how they were holding up. "Where's John?"  
"I'm sure he's on his way back right now. Are you sure you're okay? Your hands are shaking a bit…"  
I looked down to see my fingers trembling against the backdrop of the dark carpet. I hadn't even noticed their unsteadiness or the weakness in my knees, or the awful paranoid feeling that was creeping around the corners of my mind. I didn't answer George's question. All I could think about was how awful I was feeling and how badly I wanted to see John. His presence was calming beforehand when I was feeling out of place, but I felt helplessly dependent on it now. Nothing happened except getting startled yet I was frightened out of my mind.

John stormed in without the water he had set out for. "Where is he?" he snarled.  
"I sent him off, John. Forget him."  
"Son of a bitch!" John's angry voice pierced through the room and out into the hallway where a couple of confused couples stood in their doorways.  
"John, forget him." George repeated his advice and nodded towards the attention they had drawn. "Alice wants to see you." John stiffened then slowly craned his head towards me, flicking his eyes up to mine at the last moment. I felt my lip quiver quickly and he rushed over to me.  
"You're fine, aren't you? Nothing happened." He tried to keep his voice stable in his usual casual tone, but his hands worriedly swept over my arms then up to cup my face. "It was just… a joke, Alice." His jaw tightened around his lie and I dumbfoundedly nodded my head.

"Fuck," John exhaled sharply then gripped my hands. "Let's go." His arm wrapped around my waist as he had done before, but this time felt different. His grip was tighter and it felt as though he was helping me stand rather than tugging me close. My entire chest felt like it was being tugged outwards as he led me down the hall past the couples who crowded their doorframes with looks of concern and curiosity. John must have given them a dirty look because nearly all of them rushed back to where they had emerged quickly after we had traveled halfway down the hall. Recognition was at its bare minimum as I hardly noticed the change of setting as we stepped outside. Without a word, we walked further and further from the house. My mind finally cleared enough to register the distance we were clearing between us and the rest of our group.

"John, where are we going?"  
"Somewhere quiet." His face was still set in anger, but his voice was well-meaning and soft.

I reserved my questions as we walked. I focused on steadying my breaths and encouraging the strength to return to my wobbly knees. It felt like we had been putting one foot in front of the other for a number of limitless steps. It was so early in the morning, I had lost all relativity of time. As soon as John slowed his pace, our hour or so of walking felt far behind. With a squint into the dark, my eyes focused on the dim light of the street lamp which revealed still water and lonely rafts.  
"Is this the docks?" I had heard of Liverpool's infamous port. If not for this busy port, Liverpool's economy would take a nose dive. It kept the town afloat, but it was all abandoned in the twilight. Or seemingly so. A couple of fisherman off in the distance were getting an early start on their rickety boat as they untangled rotting nets.  
"Yeah," John nodded. "I wanna show you something." His hand slipped from my back and he hooked my fingertips with his as he ventured forwards into the dark. I walked closely behind him, painfully aware of the uneven ground strewn with bits of rope and other sea-venturing necessities. I nearly tripped over the side of an invisible barrel and toppled into John. Naturally, we both laughed under our breath, but it was cut short. The dramatic scene which led us here was not only leading us, but following us. It weighed our spirits and although the air felt lighter with a bit of laughter circulating through it, John's tense shoulders had not eased back since he stormed into that bedroom mere moments ago.

"Here." John rested his hand on top of a docked raft. "The view is better once you're sitting on it." My eyes followed height of the porous wood.  
"I don't think I can make it up there," I said quietly, the corner of my lips tugged back apologetically.  
"I'll help you. Come on. You'll like it up there," John pleaded without urgency. He seemed to know for certain that what he asked would calm my nerves. With a nod of my trust, he bent down on one knee and locked his hands together, palms up, positioned over his thigh. I stepped onto his leg with a grimace of worry for his safety and hoisted myself onto the surface of the slightly damp wood. John leaped up. He had obviously done this before. We shimmied down to the edge to dangle our legs over the shore.  
"See? The view's much better from up here." His calloused finger slid through the air towards the canal. Beyond it was the Mersey River, reflecting the lights of Liverpool. My words caught in my throat. The clattering of the seamen below were still audible from our elevated seat, but the vision stretched beyond me made everything below seem farther away than the few feet that actually distanced us.  
"It's so still," I commented.  
"This is the best time of day to come here. You get to see the world stop." I looked towards John whose styled hair had fallen to his brow and was being breezed back by the slow wind. My gaze returned to the river. The image remained etched in my mind as I closed my eyes.  
"Thank you for bringing me here," I smiled and slid my hand towards his.  
"I thought you ought to see Liverpool without its population." My eyes opened to his forced grin and tensed shoulders which refused to release their rigidness. I snuggled up to him and rested my head in his lap. His arm draped over my waist and his other hand ran through my hair.  
"What happened tonight..." he paused. "Will never happen again."  
"I'm okay, John." I pressed my thumb against his thigh and the hand which had fallen behind his back slid upwards to grasp his jacket. "I know this sounds cheesy, but you always make me feel safe. And that means a lot right now." My knees stumbled forwards to raise myself to John's level. His shoulders had finally relaxed and his face was relieved and content. His hands clasped behind my neck, his fingertips brushing upwards into my hair. I felt myself melt against him as his warm lips caressed mine. Feeling myself against John was one of the best feelings in the world and even though many of my special moments with John had gone badly, they always ended the same way - with John and I. That was the way I wanted everything to end. Since I was young, I had known that young romances and whirlwind love were unpractical, but for once in my life I was letting myself fall. And not fall for anything.

I was letting myself fall in love.


End file.
